


Somewhere in North Brooklyn

by noodle_kugel



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bookstores, Brooklyn, College, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, First Love, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, High School, Italy, Law School, Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, Modern Day, Modern Era, New York, New York City, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2019-09-22 15:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 103,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17062265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodle_kugel/pseuds/noodle_kugel
Summary: Elio Perlman is a high school junior living in Brooklyn, New York. He works at a bookstore with his best friend, Marzia. After he meets Oliver, a handsome Columbia University junior, at the bookstore, Elio begins to question everything he knows about himself. The two begin a journey of friendship, love and self-discovery.





	1. Welcome to Booklyn

**Saturday, February 16, 2019**

On this uncharacteristically warm February afternoon, Elio Perlman and his best friend Marzia stood in the window of Booklyn, taking down the Valentine’s Day display. Elio, a tall, gangly eighteen year old high school junior, attended Brooklyn Preparatory High School with Marzia. They worked together at the bookstore on weekends and some weekday afternoons.

They were in the process of putting up a display of children’s books about Barack Obama and Abraham Lincoln for the bookstore’s Presidents Day sale, when the duo noticed a tall, handsome stranger walk out of an Uber and into the store.

“Oh, the customer who just walked in is really handsome,” Marzia said from her perch atop a ladder, hanging red, white and blue streamers on the display. She was wearing a tight-fitting green sweater that handily displayed her curves, which did not go unnoticed by Elio. “If I wasn’t up here, I would definitely see if I have what he’s looking for,” she added suggestively.

He tried unsuccessfully to get back to work - Elio ran his fingers through his unruly mop of dark curls as he watched, transfixed as the stranger walked idly around the bookstore, fingering the spines of a few books on display. He could not take his eyes off this the man - did he look familiar? Is that why he couldn’t stop staring?

“Elio, earth to Elio… come down here for a minute and assist the customer that just walked in,” their boss, Nia, shouted from around the corner.

“Sure thing, boss,” he said, climbing out of the window and walking toward the new releases section. The customer was even taller than he looked walking out of the cab. He was at least six inches taller than Elio, who wasn’t short himself, with broader shoulders, sandy blond hair that was messy from removing his winter hat, and piercing blue eyes. “Hi, welcome to Booklyn. Can I help you with anything?”

“Hi… Elio,” the customer said with a warm smile, gripping Elio’s name tag with his index finger and thumb, squinting to read the name hastily scribbled on it. “My cell phone died during my Uber ride, so now I’m going to need a book to read during my long schlep on the subway back to Morningside Heights. Got any recommendations?”

He stared at the customer for a second, sizing him up. What could he be interested in reading? “Are you looking for fiction or non-fiction…” Elio mimicked the customer, pretending to squint and read the brand name on his jacket, pretending it was a name tag, “... Columbia?”

The customer chuckled, a warm-hearted laugh that made Elio smile. “Oliver,” he said, extending his hand, which Elio happily shook. “Though, coincidentally, I do go to Columbia.” Oliver released Elio’s hand and said, “Fiction, I guess. Something with a gripping story that will make me forget I’m going to have to take the train through three boroughs just to get home, thanks to the L train shutdown.”

“Got it. Interesting, long read, fiction. What about _The Underground Railroad_ by Colson Whitehead?”

Oliver leaned on the book shelf and grinned. “Already read it. What else have you got for me?”

“ _Exit West_ by Mohsin Hamid?” Elio suggested. “ _Station Eleven_ by Emily St. John Mandel?”

“Read it, and read it. But great recommendations, I like your taste. What have you read recently that’s more obscure or a little older?”

Elio scratched his head, thinking about the books he’d read recently. Having grown up in Italy speaking Italian, French and English at home, not everything he read was in English.

“Hmm… What about _The Art of Fielding_ by Chad Harbach? Have you read it? That one’s like nine or ten years old by now.”

Oliver shook his head. “Nope, never heard of that one. What’s it about? Wait… don’t tell me. I think I’ll blindly trust you on this one.” For the next ten minutes, they stood in the corner of the aisle, discussing their favorite books. Elio was pleasantly surprised by how well-read Oliver was.

Elio led Oliver to the register and rang him up. As he was scanning the book, Elio asked, “So, what brings you to Greenpoint, in an Uber, with a now dead phone?”

“I was working on a paper that’s due this week and needed a break, so I decided to come out here and treat myself to some pierogies. I took a cab here because, well, the subways are a mess. I’ve been craving the pierogies my bubbe used to make when I was a kid, and I wanted to get some authentic Polish food rather than something frozen from Trader Joe’s. When my phone died, and I saw this bookstore a few blocks from where I was going, I asked the driver to let me off here instead,” Oliver said.

 _His bubbe? This tall, blonde guy is Jewish?_  Elio thought. “Where were you planning on eating?”

“My very quick research on the internet said to go to Kowalksi’s,” Oliver said. “Why, is that place bad?”

Elio shook his head. “No, it’s good, but I know a place you’ll never find on the internet that has even better pierogies.”

Oliver raised his eyebrow. “Oh? Care to share, or do I need a secret password to get into this exclusive pierogi club?”

“It’s a bit complicated to find, is all,” Elio said. “I get out of work in thirty minutes - if you have time and aren’t starving, I can take you there when I clock out.”

“I’m avoiding writing this paper, so I’ve got nothing but time. I’ll go sit at the table over there and read. Grab me when you’re done,” Oliver said.

What was Elio doing? Why did he offer to go with this stranger to his secret food stand? Something about this Oliver intrigued Elio, and he was dying to learn more about him.

* * *

Elio was born in New York, when his father was a post-doctoral student at Columbia, but the family moved to Italy, his mother’s home country, when he was a toddler. They came back to the States when Elio was ten, so that Professor Perlman could take care of his ailing father. Though Elio’s grandfather had passed away several years ago, his father enjoyed his teaching post at New York University, and the Perlmans stayed in New York, spending their summers at the family villa in Italy.

The boy’s transition into American life was not an easy one. He was shy, and had a difficult time making friends and acclimating to American culture. His first year in a Brooklyn public school, he refused to communicate in English (despite perfect fluency), he fell into a deep depression, feeling alone in a place that didn’t feel like home, and his parents pulled him out of school for the rest of the year. The next year, his parents enrolled him in a private school with better counselors and smaller classes, in hopes that Elio would have a better time adjusting. Unfortunately, the school made him take the fifth grade once more, as he had not completed the year, making him a year older than the rest of his classmates, and thus, he turned eighteen during his junior year instead of his senior year.

Elio was given the desk next to Marzia in their fifth grade classroom, since she also spoke Italian, having spent her formative years being nannied by her Italian nonna when her parents were at work, and their teacher thought she would be able to show him the ropes. The two were fast friends, and soon became inseparable. Marzia helped Elio through his first year at Brooklyn Prep, introducing him to new friends and to life in the city, and Elio was Marzia’s rock during her parents’ divorce. Though their classmates think they are dating, and they were each other’s first kiss and occasionally fooled around when they were bored, they both considered their relationship grounded firmly as best friends and nothing more.

When they were in the sixth grade, their duo became a trio, when a new student, Chiara, enrolled in their school. They were the ‘tre amici’ through junior high, three close friends who told each other everything and did everything together. As they got older, they were still close with Chiara, but as her popularity (and chest) grew, she made new friends, too. Chiara always made sure to include Elio and Marzia, and the two still loved her, but Chiara was a social butterfly, whereas Elio and Marzia were content with having just each other.

* * *

"Thanks for leaving me hanging, literally," Marzia said, still on the ladder hanging up patriotic decorations.

"Sorry, Nia told me to help a customer, and I had to ring him up." Elio picked up a marker and began drawing a picture of George Washington for the display. He loved this part of the job, the chance to do something creative and make some art for the windows. He loved when people posted pictures of his displays on Instagram and they went viral.

"What took so long? It doesn't take that long to find a book."

Elio shrugged. "Dunno. He'd read everything I'd already suggested. Took a while to find a book."

"So, didya learn anything about him in the twenty minutes you were with him? What's his name? Is he single? I haven't hooked up with anyone since Ethan and I broke up in December, and I don't want this dry streak to continue."

"His name is Oliver, he goes to Columbia, and he likes to read. And he's Jewish, I think." Elio said.

"Oh, a college boy! Maybe I should go over and talk to him..." Marzia said.

Elio couldn't figure out why the thought of Marzia going over to talk to Oliver infuriated him, but he didn't say anything. "If you want, but we need to finish this display before my shift is over."

"I guess you're right. Hey, hand me those scissors?" she said, trimming some ribbons.

"I can learn more for you after work. He said he's looking for good pierogies and I offered to take him to Agnieszka's, since he won't find it on his own."

"Oh! Yes, be my wing man! Hype me up! Then you can introduce me to him!" Elio nodded, but became irrationally angry at the thought of setting Marzia up with Oliver.

Elio kept looking toward the back of the store, watching Oliver as he read. He checked his watch, saw he had two minutes left in his shift. "I'm heading out, but I'll see you at Chiara's party tomorrow?" Elio said.

"See you later!" she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Elio clocked out, grabbed his coat, and went over to Oliver. "Are you ready for some life-changing pierogies?" he asked.

"I'm ready, let's do this," Oliver said with a grin. Life-changing, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cover art was made by the amazing @chalamazed on tumblr and twitter!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I can't wait to share this story with you - this is going to be fun and fluffy, with some twists and turns along the way.
> 
> I decided to make Elio 18 to avoid any weird consent issues. Figured it just makes the story a little easier, even if he is still in high school. There will be a lot of scenes at the high school and at the university, so lots of fun modern school things to look forward to!
> 
> If you're unfamiliar, pierogies are Polish dumplings. They are delicious. The bookstore Elio works at is fictional, but it's located in Greenpoint, which is the northernmost neighborhood in Brooklyn. It's across the river from midtown Manhattan, and just south of Queens. It's got a very large Polish population.
> 
> I'll try to explain the NYC nuances and various ethnic foods I mention as they come up. Elio and Oliver are both foodies.
> 
> Let me know what you think, or if you have any comments/questions/suggestions!


	2. Magical Pierogies

**Saturday, February 16, 2019**

"So, where can we find these magical pierogies?" Oliver asked as they walked down Franklin Street.

"It's a few blocks from here. They're made by an old lady named Agnieszka," Elio said, taking off his hat. It was warmer out now than when he left for work this morning.

The two men turned a corner and reached a bodega. "After you," Elio said, letting Oliver into the small shop. He led Oliver to the back of the bodega, through a plexiglass door, which led to a hallway with a watch repair shop and a money wiring booth.

"You're not taking me to get kidnapped and sold to a sex trafficking ring, are you?" Oliver joked.

"Nope, just selling you for your organs," Elio quickly replied. They reached the end of the narrow hallway and walked into a small take out counter.

"Elio!" the old lady behind the counter exclaimed. She started speaking in Polish, which Elio mostly didn't understand, and Oliver knew not a word of.

Elio said a few words in Polish to the woman, and a few minutes later, she gave him a large take out container stuffed to the brim with assorted pierogies, and two sodas. Oliver took out his wallet and handed Agnieszka his credit card. "Cash only," Elio said.

"I don't have any cash on me," Oliver said, his cheeks turning rosy.

Elio opened his wallet and handed the woman some cash.

As there was barely room for the boys to stand inside of the restaurant, Oliver asked, "So, where should we eat these?"

"WNYC Transmitter Park is a few blocks away. We can sit on a bench overlooking the East River and eat them there? It's shockingly nice out today..."

"Perfect, let's go," Oliver said. "How did you find this pierogi place?"

Elio shrugged. "I like good food, and a customer once told me about it. I go there all the time during my breaks now. There's nothing like cheap and delicious food."

"I agree with you there. Some of my friends are content just grabbing food on the corner, but I'd rather seek out the best and most authentic food in the city."

_Jewish, a student at Columbia, and a foodie. Intriguing._

"I know what you mean. I frequently travel an hour on the subway to Jackson Heights for Himalayan food. Good food is worth traveling for."

"If you eat so much, how are you so thin?" Oliver asked. "I have to run five miles a day just to make sure I don't gain any weight from my culinary adventures."

"Good genes and a fast metabolism? It'll catch up with me eventually. My dad didn't change his diet and started developing a belly in his forties."

They got to the park and found a bench facing the water. From the park, they had a good view of the midtown Manhattan skyline. Elio opened the container, handed Oliver a plastic fork, and said, "Bon Appétit!"

The two each grabbed a potato pierogi and chewed slowly, savoring each bite. "Oh my God, you weren't lying," Oliver said, his mouth full.

"I wouldn't lie about food." Elio said, taking a second pierogi, this one with meat.

"Here, give me your phone. I'll text myself so I have your number and can venmo you the money when my phone is charged again," Oliver said. Elio unlocked his phone and handed it to Oliver, who quickly sent himself a text and saved his number in Elio's phone.

Elio looked at his phone. Oliver Jordan. Not a particularly Jewish name, maybe he was wrong about that? "Don't worry about it, you don't have to send me any money. It's on me."

"Thanks," Oliver said, with a smile that made Elio feel like he might throw up. What was it about him that made him feel so nervous?

"So, what are you studying at Columbia?" Elio asked.

"I'm a philosophy major, but I'm very reluctantly pre-law. My parents want me to go to law school like my father and grandfather and sister. I want to do research and be a professor. But I'm taking the LSAT this semester so I can apply to law school, just in case. What about you? What do you do?"

Elio took a sip of his soda. "I'm going to apply to Columbia and Juilliard, among other schools. I'm a musician. My dad's a professor at NYU so my classes there are free, which is nice."

"So you're a music major?"

Elio nodded. "That's the plan, to major in music."

"What do you play?" Oliver asked, taking another pierogi from the container on Elio's lap.

"Piano is my main instrument. I play oboe in wind ensemble, though. I can play most woodwinds, the guitar, the violin... I'll stop now, I don't want to sound like I'm bragging."

"You're not bragging, I asked. How did you wind up working at the bookstore if you live in the village?" Oliver asked.

"Oh, no, I live in Park Slope. My best friend, Marzia, the person I was in the window with, her uncle owns the store, so he gave us jobs there. I mostly get to sit around reading and doing homework, and get paid for it, so it's a good deal," Elio said. "What else do you do at Columbia, besides take philosophy classes and study for the LSAT?"

"I'm on the board of the Columbia Democrats, and sometimes my roommate, Howie, drags me to Hillel. He's a Jewish studies major and wants to go to rabbinical school." _I was right, he is Jewish..._

They made their way through the container of dumplings, Oliver asked, "So, what do you do for fun, then?"

"I play and transcribe music, I read, I really like going to the movies and museums," Elio said. "I sound like a grandfather, don't I."

Oliver laughed, small creases forming as he smiled. "No, that all sounds fun. I love movies and museums, too. There's so much culture here, it's almost overwhelming. Way more to do than at home."

"Where's that?" Elio asked.

"Kind of all over. Originally from Connecticut. My parents' work brought us to Nashville. I went to high school in DC. I'd rather be here, in New York, over all of those, though. I never want to leave this city."

"I get that. If I'm stuck in this country, this is the only city I'd want to be in, too."

Oliver raised his eyebrow. "Stuck? Where are you from?"

"I was born here, but grew up in Italy. My dad is American and Jewish, my mom is French and Italian and Jewish, so we speak English and Italian and French at home. And I can read Hebrew phonetically, but I couldn't tell you what it means."

"Me too. I wonder why they don't actually teach you how to understand Hebrew in Hebrew school?" Oliver mused. "Howdya wind up here?" he asked, grabbing a napkin from the bag next to Elio.

"My dad's father was sick, so we came here and moved in with him in Brooklyn. He died a few years after that, but my parents liked it here. My dad teaches at NYU, which I think I already said, and my mom works as a translator for a book publisher. My mom's aunt and uncle came with us, too, so we had a crowded house for a while."

"Do you think you'll go back?" Oliver asked.

"We go back every year - we spend most of our summers at my family's villa. I always thought I'd move back there when I'm done with school, but I don't know. I HATED it here for a while, but it's grown on me. I mean, look at this view," Elio said, pointing at the skyline. He looked at Oliver, who was looking off into the distance. Oliver was staring so intently, deep in thought, looking at the buildings across the river.

"There's nothing like the New York skyline. I love it here. It's going to break my parents' hearts when I never go back home."

Elio and Oliver sat on the bench for another two or so hours, talking about their favorite movies, restaurants, and what they love about New York. Before they knew it, the sun was starting to set.

"I didn't realize how late it had gotten, I have dinner plans with my roommate," Oliver said.

"Yeah, I need to get home and do homework," Elio said sadly, wishing he could spend another few hours on this bench with Oliver. He was really enjoying the company of his new friend - not since Marzia had he bonded with someone this quickly.

"Can I borrow your phone quickly to email my roommate and tell him I'm on my way but my phone died? Elio unlocked his phone and handed it to Oliver.

They got up and started walking toward the subway. As they walked to their respective platforms, Oliver heading toward Queens and Elio heading south in Brooklyn to his parents' brownstone, Oliver squeezed Elio's shoulder and said, "Thanks for this, I had an unexpectedly fun afternoon. Way better than writing a paper."

Elio leaned into Oliver's hand, feeling as if he might melt into a puddle on the subway floor. It certainly wouldn't be the strangest liquid on the ground at this subway station. Once he noticed his reaction, he immediately tensed up, and stood up straight. Oliver released his hand.

"Next time I can show you where to find the best gyōza or momos," Elio offered.

"Sounds fun. You really like dumplings, don't you."

"What? They're easy to eat, cheap, and delicious. What else can you ask for?"

"Fair point." They looked at the timer and saw the Queens-bound train would get there in two minutes. "I'd better get to my platform. It was nice meeting you, Elio!"

Oliver ran down the stairs toward his platform, his long legs allowing him to take two stairs at a time. Elio would fall on his face if he tried to do that.

Elio's train wasn't for another eleven minutes (Of course. It was the G train.), so he slowly walked toward his desired spot in the platform, waving at Oliver as he boarded the train.

He opened his email app to see what Oliver sent. It looked like he logged into his own account on the browser instead. As he sat on the bench, he Googled "Oliver Jordan" but found nothing. Oliver Jordan Columbia gave him nothing, either. Neither did any combination of Oliver, Jordan, Nashville, Washington, DC, or anything else Oliver said. He was un searchable, for better or for worse.

Elio spent the subway ride thinking about his afternoon. He'd really enjoyed spending time with Oliver, getting to know him. He was so easy to talk to, and had such piercing blue eyes. Maybe he should have tried to talk up Marzia to him - if Oliver was with Marzia, he'd be around, and Elio could spend more time with him. But for the life of him, Elio could not understand why he did not want him to be with Marzia. Oliver was awesome, and he loved Marzia - she deserved the best. He just couldn’t bring himself to try to set them up.

Oliver said he ran a lot, and Elio wondered how muscular he was under his winter coat. He tried to shake the thought, think about other things, but he kept coming back to Oliver's smile and chiseled features. It was totally normal to think he was good looking... looks are indisputable. But this was different. He knew this was different, and wanted to ignore that fact.

When he got home, Elio tried to focus on his Italian literature assignment, but could only think about the man he'd met barely six hours earlier. Later that night, as he tried to finish his homework so he wouldn't have to worry about schoolwork at Chiara's party, he heard his phone ping. It was a text from Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words on the first chapter! I hope you all continue to like the story and the direction it'll take.
> 
> I'm hoping to get at least one more chapter posted before the holidays.
> 
> The pierogi place is not real, but there is a dumpling place in Queens that you have to access by walking through a cell phone store. New York is weird. I'll make notes in here when the restaurants they go to are real versus when they're fictional.


	3. Cool People in Unexpected Places

_**Saturday, February 16, 2019 - Sunday, February 17, 2019** _

 

  
  
  


 

Elio stayed up until 2am texting with Oliver. It was as if he'd known Oliver his whole life - they had so much to talk about, and understood each other's humor. It felt cliche for him to think, but in Oliver, Elio felt like he had found a kindred spirit. Oliver was the first to say he had to go to bed - he had LSAT class in the morning, and should probably get some sleep. Elio needed to wake up early to finish his homework, since he was going to Chiara’s later in the day. They had Monday off of school, so Chiara thought it would be fun to have a party on Sunday while her parents were out of town and her 23-year-old brother was in charge.

He spent the morning searching once more for traces of Oliver on the internet, but there was nothing that was connected with this Oliver. He wondered if Oliver was looking him up. To be fair, Oliver didn’t even know Elio’s last name, but with a name like Elio, he wasn’t that hard to find. He decided to make his Instagram account private, just in case - he'd curate it and archive some pictures before making it public again. But why would Oliver be looking for him? He was nothing special - he was a scrawny, eighteen-year-old high school junior who couldn't even talk his high school into letting him graduate early.

Elio had basically finished his high school's curriculum by his sophomore year. He took the SATs (with nearly a perfect score, thank you very much) during his sophomore year in hopes Brooklyn Prep would let him graduate during his junior year, but no luck. They said they want their graduates to have four full years of high school, and that graduating with his class would give him time to build his resume. Elio thought they just wanted his tuition money. He still took some AP classes and gym, but they allowed him to take music, art and Italian literature at NYU. Elio hoped whatever college he went to would accept the transfer credits, because by the time he enrolled, he'd have over a year's worth of NYU classes under his belt.

Oliver texted him. He was the person Oliver was choosing to vent to during his boring class. He seemed like he'd have plenty of friends, but he wanted to kvetch to Elio. Elio suddenly felt a rush of excitement. He decided to go for a bike ride, with this burst of energy and decent weather.

He rode his bike around the loop at Prospect Park, near people walking their dogs and more baby carriages than he could count. The wind was brisk, much cooler than yesterday, and he enjoyed the breeze hitting his face. Elio used the time to clear his head. It was normal to think about a new friend this much, right? Elio didn't make friends that often, and when you connect with someone, it's special. Especially when that someone has the nicest eyes you've ever seen.

He wondered what it would be like to feel those big hands on his hips, and if he would enjoy kissing those soft looking lips. Would it hurt to feel his stubble rub against his own relatively smooth cheek? Had he ever had thoughts like this about another man? Elio wasn't sure. Definitely not like this, not as specific as this. Was he confusing friendship for attraction? He was 18, so everything and anything made him think of sex. Marzia often said he thinks with his dick like every other guy they know.

When he got home from his long bike ride, he took a shower and stood for a while under the hot water. He thought some more about Oliver. The way he smiled when Elio said something sarcastic. His big hands. How he towered over Elio. The way he smelled. Elio was very hard, and masturbated furiously while he thought about Oliver, tugging at his length until he quickly climaxed.  _Fuck._

He should talk to Marzia about Oliver, see what she thought. Or maybe his mother. She would be understanding. Her best friend Isaac was gay, and he and his husband Mounir had dinner at their house all the time. Isaac and Mounir were always trying to set Elio up with their daughter, Natalia. Annella and Sammy always told Elio they could talk to him about anything, and from the time he was little, tried to teach him they'd love him no matter what, and he should be free to be who he was. Maybe they knew something he didn't. Or maybe they were just being good, inclusive, open parents.

Maybe he didn't like Oliver. Not in that way. Elio decided he didn't want to ask Marzia yet. Or his mom. He wanted to keep this to himself for a bit. Maybe it would blow over in a day or two and he'd been panicking over nothing. Or maybe he desperately wanted to get to know Oliver better, to see if this was just his hormonal brain playing tricks on him.

* * *

It was time to leave for Chiara's parents' house in Carroll Gardens. Like Elio's family, her family owned a brownstone. They were private school kids, after all (except Chiara's father was a stock broker, and Elio's academic parents inherited the house from Elio's grandparents). Her older brother moved back home after college, and interned at an advertising agency in Midtown.

Elio put on a red sweater, slim fit jeans, and his Chuck Taylors. He met Marzia, and they grabbed a quick dinner near Chiara's house before the party. Over curry and pad Thai, they talked about their weekends, killing time before the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the pictures show up! I'm trying to use graphics for the texts, but if it would be easier to read typed out rather than in a graphic, I can try to make changes to future chapters (a few will still need graphics).
> 
> Sorry this one is short, but I've got some fun longer ones planned for next week!
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments - I'm glad you're all enjoying this so far!


	4. I Guess We're Doing This Today

**Sunday, February 17, 2019-Tuesday, February 19, 2019**

"So, would I like the hot customer? Anything I should know about him?" Marzia asked.

 _That he's hot as fuck and I can't stop thinking about him?_ "He's a philosophy major at Columbia, and is pre-law."

"Philosophy? Pre-law? Gross! Never mind!" Marzia's mother was a lawyer, and wanted her to follow in her footsteps. Marzia lived with her mother in the East Village, but hated her mother for cheating on her father and divorcing him. Marzia wanted to become a doctor instead, and was the best math and science student in their grade.

Good, Elio thought. Save him for me. "Yeah, once he said he was taking the LSATs, I figured it wasn't worth the effort for you."

Marzia slurped on her Thai iced tea and said, "So how long are we staying at this one? We do have work in the morning..."

"We probably have to give it at least an hour. We owe it to Chiara to last that long," Elio responded.

Usually, at the parties Chiara hosted or dragged Elio and Marzia to, the two of them stood in the corner drinking or smoking pot, watching their classmates make fools of themselves. Occasionally they'd dance together or with whatever classmate they were currently crushing on, make out with a classmate, make out with each other. During one very strange game of truth or dare, Elio made out with Marzia and Chiara at the same time (he still could not tell you the logistics of that one, despite having been a participant).

The two eventually made their way to Chiara’s house. Her brother Paul answered the door, and told them that most people were in the basement. The music was thumping, and the drinks were flowing. Elio went to the bar and mixed a drink for himself and one for Marzia, and they went over to say hi to Chiara.

“Elio!” she said, giving him a tight hug. “Marzia! I’m so glad you two could make it!”

“Of course we were coming, we love your parties!” Marzia said, a bit too enthusiastically.

“I need to go mingle, but we should dance later!” Chiara said.

Marzia and Elio stood in the corner, sipping their drinks, as they looked around the room. Much of the junior and senior classes of Brooklyn Prep were there. Including Ethan Carpenter, Marzia’s ex-boyfriend, a senior, who was grinding with Kayla Greenberg, who was in their grade. “Elio, dance with me,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. Elio enjoyed dancing, and didn’t mind helping Marzia out.

When Marzia noticed that Ethan and Kayla were sloppily making out, she pulled Elio close and pressed her lips to his. "OK, I guess we're doing this today," he said, laughing.

"I just want to make Ethan jealous. Remember when we made out on the dance floor and Mr. Roberts had to separate us for dancing too close at winter formal last year after Sierra Gonzales turned you down?"

Elio nodded. He had liked Sierra - she was pretty, had big boobs, and was the best flutist in wind ensemble. After she turned him down before the dance, the rejection had stung. "I've got an idea," he said. "Follow my lead."

He grabbed Marzia by the hand, walked her through the room, intentionally bumping into Ethan, though accidentally spilling a bit of his drink on Ethan's shoe. "You'd better hope my Yeezys aren't ruined," Ethan said.

"Sorry," Elio said to Ethan, as he pulled Marzia to the wall close to where Ethan and Kayla were standing, pushed her against it, and kissed her. Marzia wrapped her leg around Elio's, and ran her hands down his back while they made out.

He liked kissing Marzia. Sometimes she was a bit too forceful, but kissing was fun. They'd never gone all the way before, and Marzia had braces for years, which limited certain activities, but they'd fooled around a bit over the years. Last year, when he was sleeping over at Marzia's dad's place, after some very potent pot, Marzia suggested they get naked together. After one very aggressive (and not particularly good) hand job from Marzia, Elio was surprised to learn that he was quite skilled at oral sex. He'd performed it for her a few more times before she started dating Ethan, but the hardware in her mouth prevented her from reciprocating. Marzia and Ethan dated for about six months, during which she very gladly lost her virginity to him. Elio always assumed that they would lose their virginities to each other, but Marzia had been in love with Ethan, so he was happy for her.

Elio pinned Marzia against the wall, pushing his hips against hers. "Oh, you're hard," she whispered, giggling. They looked over their shoulders at Ethan, who had a scowl on his face as he sat on the couch, wiping a wet paper towel on his shoe. They resumed their kissing. As she ran her hands through his hair, he wondered what it would feel like to have Oliver's large, long fingers laced in his curls. What it would be like if he was the one pinned to the basement wall by Oliver. Fuck. Elio pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. He needed to snap out of this, fast. He could actually be kissing (or doing more than kissing) Marzia right now instead of fantasizing about a man he just met. Whom he didn't really know. He wasn't even sure if he liked Oliver, if this was just an infatuation that would quickly dissipate.

"You okay, El?" Marzia asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine Martz," he said, leaning in to kiss her neck.

"Careful, don't leave a mark," she said, tilting her head to give him better access. "I don't want a bruise like last time."

Chiara soon came over and separated them. "Ethan's not even in the room anymore," she said, knowingly. "Sorry he's here, I invited Jimmy Tsang, I should have realized he would have brought Ethan."

Marzia shrugged. "It's fine, our school is small, I should have assumed he'd be here."

Chiara grabbed each of their hands, and took them to the dance floor to dance to the hip hop songs she had been playing. Elio swiveled his hips and jumped around, enjoying spending the evening with his two closest friends. Anything to get his mind off of Oliver. He wondered if Oliver was a good dancer. He'd probably never see him again, anyway.

After dancing for a while, Elio was getting sweaty, so he went upstairs to the kitchen to cool down and get some water. Chiara's family's dog, a chubby French Bulldog named Meatball, waddled over to Elio so he could scratch his ears. Elio sat on the floor with Meatball for a few minutes, scratching his belly, and letting the dog lick his face. He was a bit tipsy, and decided to text Oliver a picture of the dog.

 

 

* * *

Elio spent most of Monday texting with Oliver. He thought that maybe Oliver was flirting with him, which excited and scared him. Or maybe he was just friendly and liked talking. It was mostly small things - observations about Booklyn customers, musings about random things they saw on Twitter, pictures of weird things on the street, funny things Oliver's roommate said. Elio had never met his roommate (he still only actually met Oliver once), but he was jealous of how much time he got to spend with Oliver.

During gym class on Tuesday, Elio walked around the indoor track (their fancy private school had ridiculous amenities) with Chiara and Marzia. Whenever their teacher looked over at them, they pretended to jog, and then quickly resumed their slow walking pace again.

"Oliver was trying to convince me that the bagels at Tompkins Square are better than the bagels at Bergen. I told him he's just too lazy to go to Brooklyn for better food," Elio said.

"Who's Oliver?" Chiara asked.

"This hot customer Elio made friends with on Saturday. He goes to Columbia," Marzia added. "But he wants to be a lawyer. Blehhhhh," she added, making a gagging gesture.

"Oh! A hot college guy! If Marzia isn't interested, you should introduce me! I'm sick of high school guys, no offense, Elio."

"None taken. Why do the two of you insist on me trying to set you up with every new male friend I make?" Elio asked.

"What's the point of having a platonic straight male best friend if he can't set us up with his male friends?" Marzia joked.

Straight male. This weekend had him thinking a lot about that label. He wasn't even sure if he was into Oliver in that way, but he hadn't stopped thinking about him. Maybe he wasn't so straight? There would be nothing wrong if that was the case. He still needed more time to figure this out. Maybe he was straight, he liked kissing Marzia, and when they fooled around, he enjoyed going down on her and getting her off. Maybe he just wanted to _be_ Oliver, or be in his orbit. He was so effortlessly cool, and Elio was... Elio.

The tre amici spent the rest of gym class pretending to exercise as they gossiped about their classmates and friends. "I have AP Bio while you're in AP Lit, but we'll head to the city together and grab pizza before your music class?" Marzia said.

Elio nodded and headed to the boys' locker room to change. He surreptitiously looked around at his classmates, wondering if maybe he did like men, if he was attracted to them, but he felt nothing. To be fair, some of the kids in the locker room were fifteen year old freshmen, and the guys from his year were mostly repulsive people, so that could have impacted this. He decided he needed to see Oliver again, to know if this was real, or if he'd just been building this in his head for three days over nothing. He just wasn't sure how to go about it. Did you just ask someone if they wanted to hang out?

Marzia waited for Elio by the front door, and they left together, taking the subway to the village. They got off at West 4th, stopped at Joe's for a slice of pizza, and walked toward the building where Elio's music class was located.

"Oh man, this pizza is good," Elio said. "I know we're Italian, but damn, they know how to make a good slice here."

Marzia took a bite of her slice and nodded. "The pizza is different in Italy, though. My Nonna calls this pizza Americana."

"I guess she's right, but it still tastes good."

Marzia walked Elio to his class before walking back to her mother's apartment in the East Village. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, kissing his cheek.

"Arrivederci!"

Elio then sat in the back of the classroom in his music theory class, idly taking notes. He noticed he had a text from Oliver.

 

 

Elio was giddy. He spent the rest of class texting with Oliver, not paying attention to a word of what his professor said. Today was a lost cause. Oliver invited him to hang out. Oliver wanted him to meet his friends. He wanted to see him again. Elio would not be able to think about anything else all week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all had a nice holiday!
> 
> Food mentioned: Joe's Pizza, Bergen Bagels, Tompkins Square Bagels, LaSalle Dumpling Room, Russ and Daughters- all real. Joe's is amazing, LaSalle has good soup dumplings if you're up in that neighborhood, Russ and Daughters has some of the most popular lox, Bergen has great bagels, Tompkins Square is... fine (though I know Timothée loves it, it's not my favorite).
> 
> The dog pictures are from manny_the_frenchie on instagram. So. cute.


	5. The Wobbly Easel

**Thursday, February 21, 2019**

Elio ran as quickly as he could from the subway to his studio art class at NYU. His train was delayed for twenty minutes due to a sick passenger, and he was going to be late - he liked getting there early to get a good easel and to take the time to set up his materials. After he ran up the subway stairs, he had to angrily weave his way through some older women and tourists, and finally got to class, with one minute to spare. Needless to say, he was not in the best of moods. Of course the rest of the class was already there, and someone had taken the spot in the back where he preferred to sit.

Instead, Elio had to take the easel at the front and center of the room. The wobbly easel that no one else wanted. The seat that gave you the most awkward view imaginable of the session’s figure drawing model. The past two classes, they’d been working on the human form. The last two models were an old wrinkly man with stretched out tattoos, and a pregnant woman.

As Elio set up his easel, taking out his pencils and charcoals, he heard a few people in the class start to whisper excitedly. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” one of them said.

“He’s hot!” another woman said.

Elio was rushing to set up his materials, and when he opened his backpack, the contents spilled on the floor. He grumpily picked everything up, and when he sat back in his seat and looked at the model to begin drawing, his jaw dropped in complete shock.

Oliver was the model in his figure drawing class. Oliver was standing less than five feet from Elio, stark naked. Holy shit. What the hell was he doing here? Why was he the model? He’d been imagining what Oliver would look like naked for the past few days, and now, this. _Fuck._

Elio clumsily knocked over his easel as he panicked. _Shit, shit, shit_ , he thought. He sat back in his seat, and started nervously sketching, avoiding looking anywhere below Oliver’s belly button. That was when he locked eyes with Oliver, who gave him a toothy grin, but looked perhaps slightly embarrassed as well.

The instructor told Oliver to stand up straight, with one leg propped up on the stool next to him. His crotch was angled forward, and Elio had a full view of the entire package. He stopped drawing for a minute, taking in the view. _Well, fuck,_ Elio thought. _I am hopelessly, pathetically attracted to him..._  All of Elio’s internal questions, about whether Oliver was muscular, and what he looked like under his jacket, whether he actually desired Oliver, if this crush was going away soon, were answered.

As he sketched Oliver’s naked form, he spent a lot of time obsessing over getting every nuance of his body correct. By drawing him, he felt like he was getting to know his body. But he wanted to KNOW his body. He wanted to kiss that taut torso, squeeze that firm ass and those amazing thighs, drag his fingertips over his muscular arms, run his tongue over Oliver's almost visible six-pack, suck on his long, cut cock. Elio had never thought about sucking a cock before, but watching Oliver in the center of the room, he imagined what it would be like to make him scream his name. He wanted to be the reason he was writhing in pleasure. Elio daydreamed about running his fingers through Oliver’s chest hair, about leaving bite marks on his neck and shoulder blade, about what it would be like for Oliver to be inside of him. He felt his cheeks turn bright red when he had these thoughts. He prayed Oliver didn’t notice.

Oliver changed positions when the instructor gave a signal, and Elio started the second drawing, not having finished the first. He’d finish that at home, maybe. Oliver had the best body he had ever laid eyes on. He wanted Oliver so badly, it hurt in the pit of his stomach. Elio knew that his obsession was going nowhere, and as he drew, he slowly accepted what he was feeling. He liked a man. He liked OLIVER. He was okay with that. He couldn’t help staring at Oliver’s cock, admiring it, wondering what it felt like to grip it, to hold it. Would it feel like his own? Would Oliver like it rough? Did he prefer things to be gentler, more tender?

_Fuck fuck fuck_. Elio realized how bad he had it. How was he going to face Oliver after this? He was supposed to go to his Shabbat dinner tomorrow, but he wasn’t sure he could see him without turning bright pink. He had a massive crush on Oliver, he’d now seen him naked, and Oliver was immediately going to know that all Elio could think about was his cock.

When the class was over, Elio took a picture of his drawing with his phone (he had no idea why he did that but it felt right, in the moment), then quickly started packing up his things, ready to leave the room, trying to avoid Oliver’s gaze. Unfortunately, Oliver put on a robe and came over, leaning against Elio’s easel with a smile.

“I thought you were a musician? I didn’t know you also took art.” Oliver said, adjusting the robe.

Elio nodded. “Yep, I also take art here.” He felt his cheeks burning hot, and tried to ignore it. “What are you doing here… as a model? We don’t usually have models like… you.”

Oliver chuckled. “I came in dead last in my fantasy football league. This was my punishment. They thought this would embarrass me, but… honestly, this was kind of fun? Did you hear some of the whispers when I walked out? Those girls over there know how to stroke my ego... I just didn’t think I’d run into someone I knew.”

“Some nice friends you’ve got, trying to embarrass you like that,” Elio said.

“Nah, they’re good guys. My team just had a shit year. Last year, when my buddy Rob came in last place, his punishment was that he had to take the SATs. Joke was on us - he got a 1600 without any preparation. It got him a high paying job as an SAT tutor. He’ll be at the Shabbat dinner, you can ask him about it.”

Elio laughed. “So what does the winner get?”

“Just a trophy. It’s more fun to torture the loser than reward the winner, or so we keep telling ourselves.” Elio zipped up his pencil case and put his charcoals away in his backpack. “Hey, can I see what you drew today?” Oliver asked.

He opened his book and flipped to the two drawings, handing it over to Oliver. “I don’t really seem to have a face in the first one.”

“I ran out of time before you switched positions. I’ll finish that later.”

Oliver put his hand on Elio’s shoulder. “You’re really good, though. Wow.”

Before he could stop himself, Elio said, “If you think I’m good at drawing, you should hear me play piano. That’s what I’m best at.”

“I would love to hear you play some day.” Oliver smiled widely. “I should probably go get dressed, but want to go grab some pizza? You did say if I was ever downtown…”

Elio frowned - he would have loved to get pizza with Oliver, but he had to get to Booklyn. “I actually have to get to work, but I can wait for you and we can walk out together?” he offered.

“I’ll meet you outside of the classroom, then,” Oliver said. “Just give me a minute or two.”

After grabbing his things, Elio threw everything in his backpack and waited for Oliver by the classroom door. Oliver wanted to spend more time with him. Maybe Oliver liked him, too? Or maybe he just saw Elio as a new friend who likes the same things and could be coerced into traveling for food. He’d need to feel this out some more, he didn’t want to ruin what could potentially be a good friendship, but he also desperately needed to know what it was like to be **WITH** Oliver.

Oliver was now dressed, in his winter coat, and met Elio at the door. “What train are you heading to?”

“I need to get to the L,” he said.

“Perfect, I’ll walk that way with you,” Oliver offered.

“You don’t have to, not if it’s out of your way…” Elio said.

“I’m going to the L, too. I need to get back to the west side to get up to Columbia. We can save the pizza for another time,” Oliver said.

When they got to the door, they saw that it had started to pour. “Fuck, I didn’t even know it was supposed to rain today,” Elio said.

“Neither did I. I don’t have an umbrella, do you?”

“Nope,” Elio said. He happened to have a plastic bag in his backpack, so he put his drawing pad in the bag and zipped his backpack tight, making sure the book did not get wet.

“Should we make a run for it, or try to wait it out?” Oliver asked.

“As much as I’d prefer the latter, I need to get to work,” Elio said.

“Race you to the subway, then?” Oliver said, opening the door to the building. The two men ran out of the door, toward Third Avenue, and then as fast as they could toward 14th Street. As Oliver had at least half a foot on Elio, ran every day, and was not carrying a heavy backpack, he was nearly a block ahead of Elio. He stopped under some scaffolding and waited for Elio to catch up.

“Not fair, you said you run every day,” Elio said.

Oliver panted a few times, regaining his breath. “I run, but I don’t sprint. That was exhausting, and we’ve still got a couple of blocks to go,” he said.

“Why don’t we just go inside and buy umbrellas,” Elio said, pointing at the Duane Reade they were standing in front of.

“That would have been too obvious,” Oliver said, laughing.

They walked into the store, and looked at the umbrella display. Oliver grabbed two, and said, “It’s on me. You got the pierogies.”

Elio turned his head, shaking off some of the water that had soaked into his hair. His curls were now plastered to his head. “I feel like a wet poodle,” Elio said, which made Oliver snicker.

Oliver handed Elio an umbrella after he paid, and they resumed their path to the subway at a more normal pace. They walked by the Third Avenue station, but Elio didn’t say anything when they kept walking - he figured they’d just get on at Union Square in two avenues. More time with Oliver. When they entered the station, they walked down to the L-train platform.

“Opposite directions again?” Oliver said.

“Guess so,” Elio said. “It’s going to suck when this train is down for an entire year and not just on the weekends.”

Once again, the timers showed that Oliver’s train would be the first to arrive. “Well, Elio, it was nice running into you today, even if you did have to witness what was supposed to be my embarrassing punishment… Hopefully you don't think less of me, having seen more of me.”  _Less of you? I already think the world of you._

“I’ll see you tomorrow, with the best bagels in Brooklyn,” Elio said, avoiding his last comment.

“And I’ll have the best bagels in **New York City** , so we’ll have to see whose is actually better. Why don’t you meet at my place at 7. If the food is terrible, which it probably will be, we’ll go grab a noodle bowl or something after to make up for it.”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Oliver reached an arm around Elio and pulled him into a half hug. Elio wasn’t sure if he was reaching around to pat him on the back or hug him, so he just stood there awkwardly, not moving. Oliver released him and boarded his train, which had just pulled up. Elio waved as the doors closed behind Oliver.

Elio opened the gallery on his phone and looked at the picture he had drawn of Oliver. Of naked Oliver. _Fuck, he was hot._ Elio had it bad. He was nervous about tomorrow’s dinner. Hopefully he'd make a good impression at the Shabbat dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days? Who am I? I haven't done this in months!
> 
> I hope you all liked this one :)
> 
> Thank you all for the kind words - I really appreciate everyone's input and comments.
> 
> New York notes: the L train goes cross-town at 14th street, and goes into Brooklyn (to Williamsburg). They're shutting down the train for basically a year and a half to make some Hurricane Sandy-related fixes, and it's going to cause a really big headache. That's why they've complained about it twice so far. Not that I'm complaining or anything...
> 
> Duane Reade is a convenience store that's all over New York, like a Walgreens or a CVS.


	6. Star Baker

**Friday, February 22, 2019**

 

After school, Elio went to Bergen Bagels to pick up bagels and different flavored cream cheeses to bring to Oliver’s apartment for the Shabbat dinner. He probably went overboard - he got two dozen bagels, but he didn’t know how many people would be there, and he wanted to make a good impression. He had texted Oliver to see if he needed to bring kosher food, and Oliver promised that no one, not even Howie the future rabbi, kept kosher, so no need to make any accommodations.

Elio went back home to change and kill time before he went into Manhattan. For the past few months, Elio had been living in the garden apartment of his family’s brownstone. Aunt Mafalda and Uncle Manfredi had lived in the apartment, but when Uncle Manfredi’s arthritis had gotten bad last year (the bathroom and the bedroom were on different floors, and it was getting difficult for him to take the stairs in the middle of the night), they moved into Elio’s bedroom, and he took the garden apartment. It was still the same building, and they shared a backyard, but now he effectively had his own rent-free apartment. In high school. Elio knew how lucky he was to have his parents. He still ate dinner with his parents most nights, and spent half of his time in their house, but he loved the new freedoms the garden apartment afforded him. For his 18th birthday, his parents even bought him a cheap piano for the apartment - no way would his father let them move the baby grand from their living room, as it was the centerpiece of every dinner party, and Elio was always required to play something for dinner guests.

He went into his apartment, put on a striped sweater, slim fit slacks, and his beloved Chuck Taylors. He then went up into his parents’ place, to see if Aunt Mafalda had maybe cooked something earlier in the day or prepared something for dinner that he could snack on now. His parents were both sitting in the living room reading. Sammy and Annella were always loving and affectionate with each other, even after twenty years of marriage, and it gave Elio something to aspire to one day. Sammy was reading, with his iPad in one hand, his other arm around his wife, while Annella’s fingers were on the back of Sammy’s neck as she read a book with her free hand.

“Elio, mon chéri, how was your day?” his mother asked, patting the couch on her other side so he could come sit down. Elio gave his mother a kiss on the cheek, and joined his parents on the couch.

“It was fine, maman. I like Fridays, my days are shorter, and I didn’t have work today, so I guess it was a good day.”

“You’re dressed nicely, are you going to a party tonight?” Sammy asked, taking off his reading glasses.

“I guess? I was invited to a Shabbat dinner. Can I wear this to a Shabbat dinner?”

“I think so, darling. Maybe you shouldn’t wear shoes with holes in them, but otherwise, your outfit is nice.”

“Whose Shabbat dinner?” his father asked. “One of your classmates?”

Elio shook his head. “No, a new friend, someone I met at Booklyn. I think it’ll mostly be Columbia undergrads there?” Elio knew his parents wouldn’t ask questions he didn’t want to answer, and they wouldn’t care if he told them about how he was feeling, but he wasn’t ready to tell anyone yet.

“Are you bringing anything with you?” Annella asked. “A good Jew never goes to a dinner party without food,” she joked.

“I’ve been asked to bring bagels. I stopped at Bergen on my way home,” Elio said.

“Maybe there will be some nice girls there,” Sammy said jokingly. “I met your mother at a Shabbat dinner, after all.” Annella and Sammy met the first week of the school year, at a Shabbat dinner at Oxford, while she was getting her masters degree and he was there for a year for his first post-doc appointment. When his appointment was over, and she finished her degree, they got engaged and she moved with him to New York for his second post-doc, at Columbia.

Elio laughed. _Or maybe there’s a man there I already want to see..._ “We’ll see… hey, did Aunt Mafalda make anything I can snack on right now?” Why was he always hungry?

Sammy nodded. “There’s a salad in the fridge and some fruits and vegetables she picked up at the farmer’s market.”

“Not the kind of food I was in the mood for,” he said, getting up and heading to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, grabbed some grapes, cleaned them and threw them in a bowl, and sat back down with his parents.

“When do you need to head out?” his mother asked.

“Maybe in an hour and a half? I figured I’d give time for subway delays.”

“Good thinking,” Sammy said. “Do we have time to watch an episode of _The Great British Bake Off_ before you leave?”

Elio nodded. They’d slowly been making their way through the series.

“What episode are we on?”

“Papa, you know that Netflix just automatically plays the next episode, right? But we just watched Pies and Tarts week.”

“Oh, that adorable Martha should have won Star Baker,” Aunt Mafalda said, joining the family in the room.

“Chetna always uses such interesting spices - I’d love to try something she’s baked,” Sammy added.

“Don’t start without me,” Uncle Manfredi said, as he hobbled into the living room, taking the love seat with Mafalda.

The family settled in and watched the episode, each one of them salivating over the different bakes. “Aunt Mafalda, I think you’d be good enough to be on this show,” Elio said.

Mafalda blushed and shook her hand at him. “I think I’d buckle under the pressure.”

Once the episode ended, Elio decided to go back downstairs, grab the bagels, and head out. “I won’t be home for dinner, but I’ll see you all in the morning,” Elio said, kissing each family member goodbye.

“Enjoy your Shabbat dinner! Don’t drink too much Manischewitz,” Sammy added jokingly. “Or, just be careful and if you’re feeling too tipsy to take the subway home, you can take a cab and use my credit card.”

“I’ll be fine, papa, thanks. Anyway, my Uber and Lyft accounts have been linked to your card for years. Who takes an actual cab anymore?”

“Be safe, and have a nice time,” Annella said.

Elio hoped he would have a nice time, or at least, impress Oliver and his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick interlude with the Perlman extended family before Elio attends Oliver's shabbat dinner!
> 
> Thank you all for your kind words - I'm so happy you all liked the last chapter :) I've got more surprises like that planned. The road ahead is still twisty, but also fluffy.


	7. Shabbat Shalom

**Friday, February 22, 2019**

Elio took the express train and made it to the Upper West Side in nearly record time. He had more than a half hour to kill, so he got out of the train at 96th Street instead of transfering to the local, and decided to walk the last mile to Oliver’s place.

_What have I gotten myself into? I’m going to make a fool of myself, and Oliver is never going to want to see me again._ Elio thought. _I’m going to be in over my head… I should just turn around now…_

He kept walking up Broadway, and turned on Oliver’s cross street, to his apartment building on Riverside Drive. Oliver said that he and Howie lived off campus, but Elio was expecting a crappy walk up apartment, not a nice building with a doorman. He walked into the building, told the doorman he was there for Oliver and Howie in 4C. The doorman pointed toward the elevators, and Elio went upstairs.

When he got out of the elevator, he walked down the hallway and found their apartment. Someone he didn't know answered the door. He was on the shorter end, slightly overweight, with messy chestnut brown hair and patchy stubble. "Hi, I'm Elio, I'm here for Oliver and Howie's Shabbat dinner?" Elio said.

The guy who answered the door immediately gave him a warm hug, causing Elio to almost drop his bags of bagels. "Elio! Hi! I'm Howie, it's so nice to meet you! Here, give me one of these and we'll carry it into the dining room. Oliver is in the kitchen making drinks, I'll go grab him."

Howie led Elio through the apartment, toward the dining room, which shared a space with the living room. A few people were already on the couch and at the table grabbing food. "Ollie, get in here," Howie shouted.

Oliver poked his head in the room, carrying a cocktail shaker. "Elio, hey! Let me just finish making the drinks, I'll be in there in a second. Howie, can you introduce him to everyone?"

Howie led Elio to the couch. "This is my girlfriend, Jillian," he said, pointing at a dark haired girl with cat eye glasses. "This is Oliver's friend, Elio."

"Jill, nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand.

"This is Deb, she and Oliver actually went to high school together, too." Deb was short, had curly dark brown hair not unlike his own, and was very pretty.

"Oh, so you're from DC?" Elio asked, shaking her hand.

"Michigan, actually. Dad's in politics, so we lived in DC when I was a teenager."

Howie introduced him to the rest of the room. There was Rob, who had lost fantasy football the previous year, Javier who won fantasy football this year, Emma, who studied philosophy with Oliver, Deb's friend Soo Yun, and several more people whose names Elio could not remember. He was surprised that maybe half of the people in the room were Jewish, but he was quickly realizing Shabbat was just an excuse to throw a party.

“So I hear your fantasy football punishment was to take the SATs last year?” Elio said to Rob.

Rob chuckled and said, “Yeah, but it was no skin off of my back. It actually got me a tutoring gig, so now I can afford to go on spring break, so in reality, it was actually good that the guys forced me to do that.”

Oliver came back out and brought cocktails for few people. Once his hands were free, he gave Elio a hug and said, "Glad you could make it! I see you've met everyone so far. More people should be coming."

"Thanks for inviting me, everyone seems so nice." Elio felt overwhelmed by the number of people and how close everyone was, but he was trying not to show it.

"Yeah, I've got a good group of friends here. You'll fit right in, they'll all love you. Come with me, can I get you a drink? I've been mixing drinks for everyone, but we've also got beer and wine."

"A glass of wine would be great, it's less work for you," Elio said.

"Don't be ridiculous, I love bartending our parties. What can I get you?"

"Why don't you surprise me, then?" Elio said, with a grin.

Elio followed Oliver to the kitchen, and watched as Oliver skillfully mixed a drink for him. He handed Elio a red cup (despite the nice apartment, they were still in college, after all) and said, "Manhattan, for the Brooklynite."

They joined the rest of the party in the living room, as more people started to arrive. Howie gathered everyone around the dining room table, where all of the food had been placed. "Shabbat shalom!"

"Shabbat shalom!" most of the room responded back.

"Thank you all for coming to our Shabbat dinner. For tradition's sake, let's light shabbat candles and say the blessing over the bread and wine, even though we've already started eating and drinking... Deb, C'mere, want to light the candles?"

Deb grinned and walked to the table. Howie grabbed a lighter and flicked it as Deb lit the candle. She covered her eyes and said the blessing. When she finished, Oliver placed his hand on her back and smiled at her. Elio felt a surge of anger and jealousy pulse through his body.

Oliver said the blessing over the wine, and Howie finished with the prayer for the bread. "Let's eat!" Howie said. “L’Chaim!”

Everyone grabbed a paper plate and began serving themselves. "We're having a bagel off," Oliver announced.

"My new friend Elio, here, thinks that his bagel shop in Brooklyn is better than my beloved Tompkins Square bagels. Let's have a taste test and see which is better," he said, pointing to the two bowls filled to the brim with bagels.

"Oliver, you only like it because you found it on a list online. You're both wrong," Jill said. "Absolute Bagels is the best. And is the closest to here, so it's clearly the winner."

"I grew up on the Upper West Side, and I miss H and H," their friend Hayden said. "Now that it’s closed, Bagel Talk is a close second."

As they all devoured bagels, and ate the dry chicken and potatoes Howie made, Elio said, "Maybe I should have gone to Kossar's for bialies instead."

"Oh, you have to bring those next time!" Oliver said. "I love a good bialy." Oliver wanted him to come next time. This made Elio equal parts happy and nervous.

"You love a good anything food related," Deb said jokingly.

Oliver shrugged, patting his nonexistent belly. "What can I say? I'm still a growing boy, I've got an insatiable appetite."

The easy rapport Oliver had with his friends, the way they were all able to joke with him, how they all clearly admired him, his mildly self-deprecating humor, made Elio just want Oliver more. He hated how easy everything was for Oliver.

Elio sat on the couch, listening as their friends had conversations about their classes and people they knew. "So what do you do, Elio?" someone asked.

"He's an artist and musician," Oliver said, sitting down on the couch, squishing next to Elio, before Elio had a chance to answer. "Actually, he was in the art class at NYU that you all so graciously forced me to model for as a punishment," he said, with a laugh. _Oliver’s leg is touching my leg. He’s sitting so close. Oh my God. Be cool. Play it cool. Don’t be nervous._

"I also work at Booklyn, in Greenpoint. That's where I met Oliver, he came to the neighborhood looking for pierogies."

"No surprise that he was searching another borough for food," Deb said with a chuckle.

"Imagine my surprise when I picked up my pencil to start sketching, and Oliver was on the stool."

"So you saw him naked, and you still wanted to come to this dinner?" Howie asked, jokingly. _I saw him naked, of course I wanted to come to dinner. I saw him naked. All I’ve been able to think about is Oliver naked._

"You should see the other models we've had, I can show you my drawings another day. Anything is a vast improvement over old and wrinkly."

As they sat around drinking, Rob picked up Howie's acoustic guitar from the corner and started playing something terribly. No one had any idea what he was trying to play.

"Elio, don't you play guitar? Want to play something?" Oliver asked.

"I mostly play classical..." he said.

"Play! Play! Play!" everyone started to chant. They then all started chanting his name. This was his chance to impress Oliver.

Elio sat on a chair, took the guitar, and played a chord. He grimaced. "I'm going to need a few minutes, this is horribly out of tune," he said. Everyone began chatting while he fiddled with the knobs, placing his ear close to the guitar to see if each string was now in tune as he loosened and tightened all six strings. For better or for worse, he had perfect pitch, and was able to tune the guitar without an aid.

"What should I play?" Elio asked.

"Your choice," Oliver said.

Elio played a Bach piece that he'd recently transposed. Everyone sat around him transfixed, listening to him play. When he finished, everyone cheered. "Encore!" they shouted.

"I can play some classic rock. Should I play things people can sing along to?" he asked, starting to warm up to the group, enjoying the positive attention. Elio received a good response, so for the next twenty minutes, he played some Beatles songs that everyone sang along to, taking requests along the way.

Oliver went into the kitchen and brought out more drinks for everyone after Elio finished playing. "That was great, Elio," he said, in almost a whisper.

Everyone had another drink, and Elio could feel himself getting a bit tipsy, a happy tipsy that made him enjoy the evening even more.

Howie drunkenly decided it would be a great idea to play a game of _Trivial Pursuit_. He split the room into teams (Elio was with Oliver, Deb and Soo Yun). His added rule was that if you got a question wrong, your whole team took either a big sip of their drinks or a shot. If you got a question right, you picked a team to do the same. Unfortunately, it was an edition of the game from the late 80s that he'd picked up at a thrift shop, and most of the current events questions were about the Soviet Union and Ronald Reagan. Oliver was shockingly good at sports and history, and Elio did not miss a single question all night. Their team was very drunk by the end, as most other teams picked them to drink when they got questions right, but they did win handily, thanks to Elio's knowledge of classical music and Greek mythology.

"Dude, Elio, you should come to pub quiz with us," Rob said. "You'd win us free drinks for life. Do you ever go with your NYU friends?"

Elio blushed and said, "I'm not 21, and the fake I got on St. Marks when I was 15 is pretty terrible," he said. "I'm Jesús Martínez, I'm 26 and from Delaware.”

Oliver laughed and said, "It's fine, the place we go, O'Leary's, doesn't card. I'll let you know the next time we go, you should come!"

He nodded - obviously he’d go along with anything Oliver suggested, but pub quiz actually sounded like fun. “Anyway, I don’t actually have any friends at NYU. I usually sit quietly in the back." He paused, and admitted, “I don’t have that many friends, in general. I have two very close friends from my high school, and some peripheral friends, but that’s it, really.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come hang out with us at any time,” Howie said.

After the game of a _Trivial Pursuit_ , Oliver put on some music, and everyone started to dance. A few of the girls quickly grabbed Elio and danced with him in a group. Elio looked over his shoulder and saw Oliver dancing with Deb. She whispered something to him, and they both looked at Elio and quickly looked away. Oliver seemed close with Deb. He wondered if Deb was his girlfriend. They would have introduced her as such though...

Elio looked at his watch and saw that it was almost 1am. The night had just flown by, and he'd had a wonderful time getting to know Oliver and his friends. He really liked his friends, and looked forward to seeing them again, at pub quiz or another party at the apartment. He’d never been around a group of people before who actually appreciated him and wanted him around - he had Marzia and Chiara, but most of his classmates didn’t really care for him.

People were starting to leave, and Elio had an hour long trek back to Brooklyn. He went over to Oliver, said he was going to head out. "Do you want me to walk with you to the subway?"

"You don't have to..." Elio said shyly.

Oliver grabbed his coat and told Howie he'd be back in ten minutes.

"I want to," Oliver said, softly placing his hand on Elio’s back.

"Thanks," Elio said, pushing a curl of hair behind his ear.

Elio put on his own coat and they left the apartment, waited for the elevator, and headed to the subway. “Did you have a nice time?” Oliver asked.

“I did!” Elio answered truthfully. “I really liked your friends, they were all so nice to me.”

“I think you impressed them, between your guitar playing and your trivia prowess. You certainly impressed me,” he said.

Elio felt himself blushing, and he was glad that it was cold out, so his cheeks were probably already rosy.

“Howie is a hoot. He commands the room well, I think he’ll be a good rabbi one day,” Elio said.

“Yeah, Howie’s a character. Aside from Deb, whom I’ve known for years, he’s my best friend here.”

“How did you two meet?” Elio asked, as they turned back onto Broadway and up toward 116th street.

“He was actually my randomly assigned roommate freshman year. He’s from New Jersey. When he learned I was Jewish, he started dragging me to Jewish events, and I forced Deb to tag along. Deb introduced Howie to her roommate, Jill, and it took them over a year of shy flirting to finally get together.”

Elio fidgeted with his winter hat and said, “Deb seems really nice. You two are close?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, she was one of my closest friends in high school, and then we both got into Columbia early decision.”

They reached the downtown entrance to the subway. “Well, this is me,” Elio said. “This time, you’re not getting on the opposite platform.”

“Who said I don’t have a hankering for Dominican food right now and I’m not going up to Washington Heights?”

“Because it’s 2AM?” Elio said, laughing.

“Well, get home safe,” Oliver said, giving Elio a hug. Elio wished they weren’t both wearing such thick jackets, because he couldn’t gauge if this was a friendly hug or something more.

“Thank you for inviting me, this was really fun,” Elio said. He walked down the stairs of the subway, waving to Oliver, and swiped his Metrocard to get onto the platform.

If this night had proven anything, it was that whatever he was feeling for Oliver was not going away any time soon. After witnessing his interactions with his friends, seeing how nice he was to him in their presence and tried to include him in everything, how funny and charming and nice and good-looking he was… Elio had fallen fast, and hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year! I am so appreciative of everyone I've met through the fandom this past year, and I am thankful for all of you <3
> 
> Let me know if you want any of the slightly Jewish things in the chapter defined! All of the bagel and bialy (kind of like a flat bagel made with denser dough with onion on top) places mentioned are real, the bar they go to for pub quiz is not.


	8. Finish the Drawing

**Tuesday, February 26, 2019 - Wednesday, February 27, 2019**

After his music theory class, Elio had dinner with his parents and Aunt and Uncle. Mafalda had made roast chicken with potatoes and asparagus. Elio kept looking at his phone, to see if Oliver had texted him. They had exchanged more texts after the party - Oliver said that his friends couldn’t stop talking about Elio, and wanted him to come to pub quiz with them on Thursday night. He had a long day on Thursday - art class, then work at Booklyn - but he said he would join. He’d just be sleepy in school on Friday.

“Everything okay?” his mother asked, noticing that Elio kept looking at his phone.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Elio said, locking his screen again.

“Expecting a big phone call?” his father asked.

“I was just seeing if anyone texted.”

His parents both nodded. Elio knew his parents could read him like a book, they knew that something was going on.

After dinner, he joined his parents in the living room, and they planned to watch another episode of _The Great British Bake-Off_.

“Are you sure everything is okay, Elio? You’ve seemed pretty distant this week. Do you want us to schedule an appointment with Dr. Epstein? You’re not supposed to see her for another couple of weeks for your monthly appointment, but I’m sure she could squeeze you in if you needed an appointment,” Sammy said, placing his hand on Elio’s back.

“Papa, I’m fine, my meds are working, everything has been under control for years. I’m not depressed, I’ve just been… a little out of sorts lately.”

“And you’re taking your Lexapro, every morning? Remember what happened when you stopped because you were feeling better?” Sammy added.

“That was three years ago, and I was stupid. I understand how antidepressants and SSRIs work now. Papa, everything’s okay.” The summer Elio was fifteen, when they were at the villa, he realized how good he was finally feeling, and decided to stop taking his antidepressant cold turkey. Teenage boys do not make smart decisions during puberty, and Elio experienced bouts of vomiting, horrible anxiety, and bad mood swings. At first, his family chalked it up to his changing body, but after some headaches and insomnia, Annella realized that Elio had stopped taking his medication. They took him to see a doctor in Milan, and he spent the rest of the summer easing back onto his antidepressants. When they got back to New York, he had to start seeing his psychiatrist multiple times a week until everything was back on track, and she stressed the importance of taking his medication and speaking to her or his parents if his symptoms were worse or changing, or if he felt different.

“You know you can talk to us about anything, right Elio?” his mother said.

“I know, maman,” he said, resting his head on her shoulder. His parents were nags sometimes when it came to his depression and his health (they tended to stay out of the way otherwise), and he understood that they cared about him.

Mafalda shouted from the other room that she’d be there in ten minutes, that she just wanted to wash the dishes before they started the episode.

“Well, I do have one question,” Elio said, as his parents looked on caringly. “How… how can I figure out if someone likes me, romantically, without ruining a friendship?”

“That’s a hard one,” his mother said. “I think… if you like this person, you have to approach it in such a way that you let them know that you care about them, and value their friendship first and foremost, but are also interested.”

“But you’ll never know if you don’t ask,” Sammy added. “Otherwise, you’ll always be left wondering.”

They didn’t really tell him something he didn’t already know. How did you ask a male if they liked you, if you didn’t even know if they liked guys? Elio had never felt like this about another male before, and wasn’t sure how he’d react if it were the opposite and someone was telling him they liked him. What if he made Oliver feel uncomfortable? He really enjoyed their budding friendship, and didn’t want to jeopardize that, but if there was a slim chance Oliver liked him, too, he had to know. He wanted to kiss him, to feel his body touch against his, to taste him, to know what he feels like. Could he bear not having Oliver in his life at all, if he could just be with him once?

* * *

That night, Elio went back down to the garden apartment, and tinkered away on the piano, thinking about the homework that was due the following week. He had to submit his figure drawings, and he hadn’t finished the first sketch of Oliver. He also had a paper he’d been avoiding for his AP Lit class, but he’d get to that eventually. His teacher was pretty lenient with deadlines.

While he was playing a Mozart piece, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw that the text was from Oliver.

Oliver was coming over tomorrow. Oliver would be in his apartment. _Oh my God._ He started tidying up, but he was never going to make the apartment look clean. He’d ask Aunt Mafalda if she could help clean the place in the morning.

On his way home from NYU, he stopped at the strip of Middle Eastern restaurants and markets on Atlantic Avenue. He picked up hummus, baba ganoush, tabouleh, falafel balls, pita, halvah, and various other specialties. He spent almost $50 in the end, but he wanted to impress Oliver.

Back at the garden apartment, he looked around, thankful that his aunt had scrubbed the place clean. He went upstairs and brought a tub of hummus and a bag of pita for his parents and Aunt and Uncle. “Zia Mafalda?” he called out.

He heard some chatter in the dining room, and saw Mafalda in the room with her friends, playing cards. She played with a group every week - they were all of different ethnic backgrounds, and had all met at the English language class eight years ago that Mafalda and Manfredi took when they moved to the states with the Perlmans. One of them was a short, chubby old Russian lady with big hair and bright orange lipstick who always kissed Elio on the cheek and insisted that he call her “Babushka Ludmilla”.

“Yes, Elio?” Mafalda said, meeting Elio in the corridor.

“I brought you some hummus and pita,” he said. “I won’t be here for dinner tonight, a friend is coming over, but I thought I’d bring this up for you. I know how much you like it.”

Mafalda kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Elio. That was thoughtful of you.”

Elio went back downstairs and sat at his piano. He had an hour until Oliver got there. Whenever he was feeling stressed out, he played the piano - he was able to escape in the keys, get lost in the sharps and flats, found it soothing to tap his foot to a rhythm and push the pedals under the balls of his feet.

He got so lost in the music he was playing, he actually didn’t hear the doorbell ring the first time. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Oliver was calling.

“Hello?” Elio said.

“Hey, it’s Oliver. I’m outside, I wonder if I rang the right doorbell?”

“Oh, sorry, I was practicing the piano, I’ll come outside now.”

Elio gulped and went to the door, where Oliver was standing. “Hey! Come in,” he said, letting Oliver inside.

“Wow, this neighborhood is really nice, and this place is awesome,” he said as he stepped in, running a finger along the exposed brick on the wall. “Does Booklyn pay well?”

Elio chuckled. “Oh, this is my parents’ house. They live upstairs, I get the garden apartment rent-free. We share the backyard, but otherwise, it’s not really connected to the main house,” Elio added, in case Oliver was worried that his parents would interrupt them.

“Sweet deal,” Oliver said. “I mean, my parents pay my rent, too, but I share an apartment, and a bathroom, with Howie…”

“How did you wind up in that doorman building?”

“We were going to have to live in a dorm where we shared a bedroom sophomore year, and we were not having that. My parents have money, so they pay most of the rent, and Howie’s parents pay what they would have paid for the dorm. It was nice of my parents to offer that, actually.”

Elio showed Oliver around the apartment - the living room, the kitchen, the backyard. He pointed to the bedroom but felt uncomfortable showing him inside, thought he would make assumptions.

Oliver pointed to the piano in the living room. “You said you’d play piano for me at some point, can I hear you play?” he asked.

Elio smiled and obliged, sitting at the stool and placed his hands on the keys. “Should I play the Bach I was playing on guitar at Shabbat?” he asked. Oliver nodded.

He played the song, slowly at first, then changing it up every verse. Oliver sat at a chair nearby, watching him play, deep in thought. When Elio finished, Oliver stood up and clapped. “Bravo!” he said, jokingly.

They went to the table in the kitchen, where Elio had set up the assorted cold foods. “I need to heat up the falafel, but otherwise, dig in,” he said.

“Oh man, this all looks so good. Thanks, Elio,” Oliver said, grabbing a piece of pita and dipping it in the baba ganoush.

Elio heated up the falafel balls, and the boys put together their falafel, adding hummus, salad, and tahini. “I love the place I bought this, they have Lebanese and Yemeni food, and everything is so authentic there, or so I imagine.”

“How is falafel so good?” Oliver asked, his mouth full of the fried chickpea dough.

“No idea, but I could live on the stuff,” Elio added.

While they ate, they talked some more about Oliver’s friends, Elio told Oliver about Marzia’s breakup with Ethan and the drama that was causing, and they talked more about their classes.

“I have to read _Wuthering Heights_ for my lit class. I am kind of hating that book,” Elio said.

“Besides bagels, something we disagree on! I think each of the Bronte sisters had her own brilliance. _Wuthering Heights_ was crushingly sad, but beautifully written,” Oliver said.

“Nah, I read a lot of classic books and enjoy them, but _Wuthering Heights_ is just boring. Agree to disagree,” Elio said, sticking out his tongue.

After they ate, Oliver sat up straight. “So, do you have a bathrobe?” he asked.

“A bathrobe? What for?”

“Am I not posing for you?” Oliver asked. “Am I just going to strip naked in the kitchen?” _I would love if you did that..._

“I just needed to draw your face… but if you don’t mind posing, starting from scratch would probably be better…” Elio placed his hand on his cheek, and could feel it burning up.

“I don’t mind. I’m here, aren’t I? Might as well get you that A in your art class,” he said.

Elio went into his bedroom and rifled in the closet for his bathrobe. He handed it to Oliver. “Here’s my robe. You can change in the bathroom or the bedroom. I’ll set up my easel in the living room.

Oliver grabbed the robe and went into Elio’s bedroom, closing the door.

Elio made sure the blinds were shut so his neighbors wouldn’t see Oliver naked in his living room. Naked. Oliver. Oliver was going to be naked. In his living room. Naked. In his apartment. Oliver. Elio thought he might pass out.

When Oliver came out in just the bathrobe, Elio would have done a spit take had he been sipping a drink. Elio was narrower and shorter than Oliver, and the robe just barely fell below Oliver’s rear end. It was tight on him, and barely covered anything.

Oliver grabbed the piano stool and stood next to it. “Let me know when you’re ready for me…”

Elio nodded and grabbed his pencil. “I’m ready,” he said softly. Oliver dropped his robe, and leaned against the stool, placing his foot in the same position he had been for the first drawing the previous week.

He took a deep breath and looked up at Oliver, naked. This wasn’t the time to think about what it would be like to touch his naked body. He had to finish this drawing, and Oliver was being incredibly kind and generous with his time right now. He had to get this drawing perfect.

Elio brought his pencil to paper, and began sketching. He made sure that everything was correct, down to the placement of his body hair. Elio stared at Oliver’s eyes, noticing how kind they were - he’d previously gotten lost in how blue they were, but he’d never stopped to think about how much they said about Oliver. As he drew the bow of his lips, he stopped to think about what it would feel like to have those lips pressed against his, about how much he wanted to kiss Oliver. He needed to stop thinking about that right now, and keep drawing.

Oliver had turned his head slightly, staring at the wall. “Can you turn your head a little, toward me?” he asked, trying to get him to emulate the way he had been standing in class.

“Sure thing,” Oliver said, turning his head toward Elio and smiling a bit.

“You have a nice smile,” Elio said, immediately regretting his choice of words, “but I think you had a more serious face in the class. Can you do that again?”

Oliver nodded and turned his head toward Elio, making eye contact. Elio’s eyelashes fluttered, and he quickly looked down at his easel, avoiding Oliver’s gaze. There was no way that Oliver didn’t know that he liked him, and yet, he was here, naked in his living room, posing for his art assignment. Elio was going to need to find the courage, soon, to tell him how he felt. Oliver was showing him vulnerability right now, privately modeling for him, Elio could be vulnerable and tell him. But not right now - not while Oliver was naked, posing for him.

Once his face was finished, Elio worked on perfecting Oliver’s lower half. His mind kept drifting back to Oliver’s cock. If he was this big now, he wondered how big he was when he was hard. _Stop, Elio._ _Finish the drawing so Oliver can put his clothes back on..._

Elio soon finished the drawing. He was proud of his work, and it didn’t hurt that he was crazy about his model. One day, he would tell him that. “I’m finished… do you want to see?” Elio asked. Oliver grabbed the robe and loosely tied it. He came over to Elio and leaned over his easel. Since the robe was too small for Oliver, when he was standing next to Elio, when he looked down, he could see everything. _Oh, fuck,_  Elio thought. He was half hard and prayed Oliver didn’t notice.

“Wow,” Oliver said. “That’s amazing, Elio. Music, art, is there anything you can’t do?” he said, running his finger along the sketch.

Elio blushed furiously, and looked down at his toes. “I’m not that good at art…”

“Don’t put yourself down, you are great. If I was wearing clothes in this picture, I’d ask you to make me a copy so my parents could frame it,” he said, laughing.

Oliver placed the drawing back on the easel, at the same time Elio went to grab it from him, Elio’s hand accidentally gripping Oliver’s, and their heads were uncomfortably close. Elio breathed deeply, staring at Oliver, frozen in his place, their hands still touching. Oliver smirked at Elio, but kept his hand in place, not moving another muscle.

After a tense moment, and neither man made a movement (or a move), Elio sat up straight and released his hand, letting Oliver put the book on the easel.

“I should probably put my clothes back on…” Oliver said, readjusting the robe, accidentally giving Elio one last glance.

_You really don’t have to..._  Elio wanted to say. “Probably a good idea.”

Oliver went back into Elio’s bedroom and closed the door while he got dressed. When he walked back out, he tugged at his sweater, readjusting it.

“Mind if I have another few bites of the delicious hummus before I head out?” Oliver asked. “I have some reading I need to finish before class tomorrow morning, so I shouldn’t stay too late.”

“Want to take the whole thing?” Elio asked. “I bought another and gave it to my Great Aunt upstairs.”

Oliver nodded. “Oh my God, yes. I’ll probably devour the whole thing before I go to bed. Howie and Jill will have to fight me for it,” he said, laughing.

Elio grabbed the bag of pita, closed the hummus container, and threw everything in a bag for Oliver. “If you do finish this tonight, let me know, I can stop and get you some more on my way to pub quiz tomorrow,” Elio offered.

“I may very well take you up on that,” Oliver said, smiling. “I should probably head out, but thanks for the hummus!”

Elio blushed, and said, “Thanks for… coming over and… helping me finish my assignment. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. This must have been… awkward for you.”

“I didn’t mind, I was the only one who could help you finish the assignment, anyway,” he said. Elio thought that Oliver’s cheeks were starting to turn a bit pink, too. “I’ll see you at pub quiz tomorrow, then? O’Leary’s, at 8?”

“See you then,” Elio said, waving to Oliver as he opened the door and left his apartment.

As soon as Oliver left, Elio went into his bedroom and collapsed on his bed, hitting himself in the head with his pillow. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he said out loud to himself a few times. They were so close, they could have kissed, and Elio chickened out. Maybe he’d find the courage tomorrow night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued support of this story! Your comments have made me so happy :)
> 
> Thanks to PerpetualStorm for noting that it was weird Mafalda is speaking English - I explain why in this chapter!


	9. Yer a Quizzard, Harry

**Thursday, February 28, 2019**

Whenever Elio and Marzia had a class together, they insisted that they sit next to each other. At this rate, their teachers knew that they were a package deal. During their advanced pre-calc class, they were supposed to be working on a problem set, but Marzia had finished hers already. She looked over her shoulder, nudged Elio, and tilted her work toward him so he could copy it. Elio was good at math, but Marzia was better.

“I can do it myself,” he said, punching some numbers into his graphing calculator.

“Fine,” she said, twiddling her thumbs, waiting for Elio to finish so they could chat.

Elio scribbled a few more answers to the sinusoidal equations on the board, and put his pencil down when he finished. “I’m done now, happy?” he asked, looking over at a grinning Marzia.

“Yep, now I have someone to keep me entertained for the last 20 minutes of class,” she said.

“Glad to be of service. Also, glad we’re not getting graded on these.”

“What are you up to tonight? Want to grab dinner after work?” Marzia asked.

Elio shook his head. “I’d love to, but I already have plans.”

“Plans? With whom? Chiara and I are the only ones you ever make plans with!”

“With Oliver. His friends invited me to come to pub quiz with them tonight after they saw I was good at trivia at their Shabbat dinner,” Elio said.

Marzia smiled. “That sounds like fun! Is Jesús going to be able to get into the bar?”

Elio chuckled, and pretended to press some buttons on his graphing calculator when their teacher, Mr. Sanders, looked in their direction. “They said I’ll be fine, that the place doesn’t card.”

“Just don’t try to replace me, I’m your only best friend. For life, remember? But I’m happy you’re making new friends.” Marzia took out her phone, and said, “Hey, Chiara just texted from her French class. Want to go ice skating at Prospect Park on Saturday night? Chiara said that they’re doing the roller disco on ice, she wants to get a group together to go.”

Elio looked at his phone and saw that he wasn’t included on this text. “She didn’t text me. Are you sure I’m included?”

Marzia nodded. “Of course you are. She mentioned it between something about her menstrual cup and a text that she regrets not having taken a Midol this morning, I’m pretty sure she didn’t want to send that to our group thread. Also, she knew I was sitting next to you.”

“I appreciate that I was left off of this chain, then,” he said. Elio didn’t actually care - his only two friends were both females who always spoke their minds, he was used to them complaining about things like their periods, and talk of feminine issues didn’t actually bother him like it did some of his peers.

“Oh! Why don’t you invite your new Columbia friends? Maybe there will be a hot guy for Chiara or me!” Marzia suggested.

Elio had met Oliver’s friends, but Marzia had barely met him… maybe it was a good idea to see how he interacted with his friends. He still hadn’t told Marzia how he felt about Oliver, but he felt fairly confident that once he did, she would support it.

“Sure, I’ll text Oliver now and see if he and some of his friends want to come. Not sure how many of them are willing to schlep out to Brooklyn, though.”

 

“Oliver is in, not sure about any of his friends, though,” Elio said. “So, do I even have anything to wear to this?”

“We’ll go to a thrift shop and see what we can find. If not, I’m sure Chiara can cobble something together for you.”

 

* * *

Elio had a long day, but the thought that he’d be spending a few hours with Oliver made everything else more tolerable. He submitted his drawings of Oliver (but not before making a copy for himself) and the other live models they’d had, and hoped for the best. He only worked for a few hours, but there were no fussy customers and he mostly got to do some homework during his shift. He left his art supplies at the bookstore, afraid of ruining them at the bar, and left for Manhattan to get to O’Leary’s.

He got there a few minutes before pub quiz began, and as he was told, no one ID’d him at the door. He found Oliver’s group of friends at the back. 

“Elio!” Oliver shouted, motioning for him to sit in the chair next to him. “C’mere, we saved a seat for you!”

He sat in the chair next to Oliver, secretly pleased that Oliver had saved him a seat. “Nice to see you again, Elio,” Deb said, smiling at him.

Their team was Oliver, Howie, Jill, Deb, Rob, Javier, their friend Darnell who wasn’t at the Shabbat dinner, and now, Elio.

A waitress came over and brought the table copious amounts of bar food - there were mozzarella sticks, nachos, wings, and cheese fries. “Dig in, it’s for everyone,” Howie said.

“Oh thank goodness, I didn’t eat dinner,” Elio said, grabbing a wing. As they snacked, Oliver went to the host and grabbed some answer sheets.

“Elio, welcome to team ‘ _Yer a Quizzard, Harry_ ’,” Oliver said. Elio laughed, and asked who came up with the team name.

“That’d be me,” Howie said, raising his hand. “If it were up to Ollie, our team name would be some philosophical joke no one would understand. Though, you probably would,” he added.

Oliver’s friends were all friendly, slightly tipsy, and chatty, but they all made sure that Elio felt included in the conversation. It was a nice change of pace from his high school, when they hung out with Chiara’s friends - Elio usually felt ignored or invisible to everyone besides Marzia and Chiara. The waitress brought them another pitcher of beer, with a glass for Elio, and he poured himself a beer. He didn’t love cheap beer - he preferred wine or liquor, but this would do.

The first round was not a great showing for Elio - it was about basketball, a sport he knew almost nothing about. He sat quietly while the rest of the team argued over what team had the most consecutive championships. “I think it’s the Lakers, I think they won a bunch in the 70s,” Javier said.

“Dude, Javi, you’re wrong. It’s got to be the Bulls. Didn’t they win a whole bunch when Michael Jordan was on the team?” Rob asked.

“But didn’t he take off a couple of years to play baseball or something? I don’t watch basketball, but I remember that from _Space Jam_ ,” Deb offered. “And then he went back, so they didn’t win consecutively, because I don’t think they won without him.”

“Deb’s right,” Oliver said. “It’s the Boston Celtics. In the 60s, I think, they won something like 7 or 8 in a row.”

Darnell came back from the bathroom, and asked, “What did I miss?”

“These putzes are arguing over who won the most consecutive NBA championships,” Jill said.

Darnell smiled and took his seat. “That’s an easy one. The Celtics, won 8 in a row, before our parents were born.”

Oliver reached over the table to give him a high five. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell these guys.”

Elio sat and watched Oliver interacting with his friends - he loved their dynamic. They all bounced off of one another, and even when they were making fun of each other, it was done with levity and kindness. He quietly ate some fries and nachos and listened to them discuss things about basketball. They may as well have been speaking a language he didn’t understand.

“Do you not watch basketball?” Deb whispered to him. Elio shook his head.

“Neither do I. More of a hockey fan, myself. Go Red Wings!” she said.

Elio shrugged - it wasn’t that he didn’t like sports, he just wasn’t particularly a fan of anything. “I guess my favorite sport is soccer? I didn’t grow up here, so American sports are not really my thing,” he said.

“Oh? Where are you from?” Jill said, turning her chair to face Elio and Deb. “I’ll just let them argue over another sports question.”

He gave a very brief summary of his background. “Born here, moved to Italy where my mom is from when I was little, came back here in the fifth grade to take care of my dying grandfather.”

“But you’re Jewish, though?” Deb asked.

“Yep, I’m a third generation Brooklyn Jew on my Dad’s side, and a French and Italian Jew on my mom’s side. I’m kind of a mutt,” he said.

Jill took a sip of her beer and asked, “There are Jews in Italy?”

Elio nodded. “Yep! Not too many, but we exist. There are a lot more in France.”

“France, I knew,” Deb said. “I went to the Marais a bunch when I studied abroad in Paris last year.”

Oliver turned around. “And I missed you so much when you were there! A semester without you here was rough,” he said, patting her on the head. Elio clenched his jaw, trying not to show how angry he was feeling inside.

“But you got a Spring Break trip to Paris out of the deal, so was it that bad that I wasn’t here that semester?” she asked.

Javier got up and went to hand in their answer sheet, and Rob said, “Speaking of Spring Break, I wish you were coming to Cancun with us, Oliver.”

“Where are you going for Spring Break?” Elio asked Oliver.

“I wish I could go, too, but I couldn’t give up a week of studying for the LSATs. My parents would never forgive me. I’m just going to bum around here for a week, instead. There’s always next year for Cancun.”

Most of their group of friends were going to Cancun, Deb included, and Oliver seemed sad that he couldn’t join them, but Elio was thrilled with the idea of Oliver around for a week, with no one to hang out with. He could try to make plans with him often that week…

The next round was more up Elio’s alley. It was a handout round with pictures of the outlines of different world countries, and you had to identify what the capital of that country was. He had an uncanny ability to recognize the outlines of different countries, and he swept the round for the group, with some help from Darnell, who jokingly bragged about having won his school’s Geography Bee in the seventh grade.

While they waited for the next round, Oliver announced to the table, “Elio’s friends are going ice skating in Prospect Park on Saturday night, anyone want to come?”

“My best friends from my high school are getting a group together to go,” Elio said. “It’s silly but fun - they play disco music, you dress up, and you skate. Also, they have a bar there.”

“Howie, that sounds fun, we should go!” Jill said.

“Sure, why not, we’re in,” Howie said.

“Anyone else?” Oliver asked.

Most other people at the table already had plans for Saturday night.

“Deb, you sure you don’t want to go?” Oliver asked.

“It’s date night! Amir is going to finally take off a night of studying for the MCATs to take me out to dinner!” she exclaimed. Date night! Deb had a boyfriend! Who wasn’t Oliver! Elio suddenly liked her so much more. They WERE just friends.

A few of the boys made kissy faces, and Deb jokingly threw a fry at them - it hit Javier in the head

“So I guess the three of us are going skating with you,” Oliver said.

Elio was able to shine even further during the audio round, especially with the knowledge that Oliver and Deb were not a couple. The host played clips from ten different operas, and you had to identify the composer. Oliver grabbed the answer sheet and handed it to Elio and said, “I think we’re going to trust you on these.” Elio was proud that he was able to get all ten correct. Oliver said that he knew the Wagner, but only because of Bugs Bunny.

“Look, two questions we knew answers to because of _Looney Tunes_!” Howie shouted.

Oliver placed his hand on Elio’s back and said, “You’re our secret weapon, Elio. I’m glad you came.”

In the end, _Yer a Quizzard, Harry_ , came in first place, winning a $60 bar tab, which mostly covered the food and pitchers of beer the team had ordered.

“Dude, you are totally joining our team more often,” Rob said.

Elio yawned - he had a long subway ride back to Brooklyn ahead of him, and he was going to be exhausted at school tomorrow, but it was worth it. “I think I’ll need to change my work schedule to not work on Thursday evenings if I come again, I’m wiped, but this was really fun. Thank you all for inviting me.”

The waitress brought the table a celebratory pitcher of beer, but Elio looked at his watch and realized he’d get home after midnight. “I should probably get going.”

“Do you want company on your way to the subway?” Oliver offered. Elio would have loved for him to walk him to the subway, but he felt bad taking him away from his friends. He’d find the time to talk to him in private another day.

“Thanks, but that’s okay, you should stay and celebrate our victory.”

“That we wouldn’t have won without you! Are you sure you can’t stay for one more drink?” Oliver asked.

Elio wanted to stay. He wanted to stay so badly. But he knew if he had another drink, or left any later, he would oversleep and be late to school. “I have a pretty long subway ride, and I have school pretty early… I’ll see you on Saturday?”

“Saturday it is! I’ll need to find something to wear before then!” he said with a grin. Elio couldn’t wait to see what sort of ridiculous outfit he was going to wear to the skating rink for disco night.

He said goodnight to everyone and walked the couple of blocks to the subway. During his train rides home (he had to transfer to the express train a few stops after Columbia), he thought about how much fun he had that night, with Oliver and his friends. Especially with Oliver. He thought about how handsome he looked, even in the dimly lit bar. How the creases of his mouth turned up when he smiled. How he wasn’t annoyed when Elio corrected someone’s answer and was impressed with his knowledge, rather than calling him a nerd like his classmates.

Elio’s father was correct - if you didn’t tell someone how you felt, if you didn’t ask how they felt, you would never know. He needed to figure out when to do it - too many of their friends would be there on Saturday. Maybe Oliver would want to meet him for food on Sunday, and he could tell him then… Elio was going to spend the next two days figuring out a course of action, because he had to tell Oliver how he felt soon, before he let this fester inside of him any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having SO much fun writing this story, and I'm so glad you're all enjoying it as much as I've enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> Thank you all for the feedback, you're all so wonderful!
> 
> To those of you wondering, I'm going to be posting the sequel to Tikkun Olam in the next couple of days!


	10. Roller Disco on Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, but I think you'll like it...

**Saturday, March 2, 2019**

Marzia walked into the doors of Booklyn fifteen minutes after her shift started, and snuck into the staff room to put her things away. She found Elio in the corner of the fiction section, reading a book while he was supposed to be straightening out the books on the shelves. “I brought you a coffee,” she said.

“What took you so long?” Elio asked.

“I couldn’t decide what to wear tonight, and I’m not going home first, so it took a while.”

Elio laughed. “You’re lucky your uncle owns this place, or you’d probably be in trouble for getting here late today.”

“What’s Nia going to do, tell Uncle Chris that I was a few minutes late? I don’t think he’d care if you were late, either.”

Tonight was the “roller” disco, and Elio was nervous about Marzia and Chiara meeting Oliver, Howie and Jill. What if they didn’t like Oliver? They didn’t know how Elio felt about him, but he still wanted his friends to like Oliver. But, why wouldn’t they like him? He was funny, smart, handsome, and incredibly charming.

Elio put down the book he was reading, and he and Marzia opened the cardboard box on the floor and began putting books on the shelves.

“I went to Beacon’s Closet and got you something to wear tonight,” Marzia said with a sly smile. “I hope you don’t kill me.”

“What did you do…” Elio asked.

“I’ll show you later, when we leave.”

The hours seemed to creep by slowly, as Elio mentally worked his way around how he was going to talk to Oliver. Tonight, he’d casually ask Oliver if he wanted to try a new shawarma place in the Village, and he’d try to talk to him tomorrow, when they were alone. Oliver couldn’t say no to trendy, delicious food, right?

Elio’s lunch break was before Marzia’s, so he went to Agnieszka’s and got pierogies for himself and Marzia. He brought them back to Booklyn, and ate them in the staff room with Marzia, who decided to start her break when Elio returned. The perks of nepotism.

“So who’s going tonight?” Elio asked as he chewed on a pierogi.

“You, me, Chiara, Kayla, whom I’m still kind of mad at for making out with Ethan but whatever, Hannah Grant, Isaiah Martin, Dalton Pugh, and some seniors, probably, knowing Chiara,” Marzia said. “And your friend Oliver, right?”

“Yeah, he, his roommate, and his roommate’s girlfriend are joining us.” Elio was about to bite into the last cheese pierogi, and Marzia grabbed it off of his fork and took a bite. “Hey, I was about to eat that!”

“Sorry,” she said with her mouth full, “but I wanted it.”

“Are you going to show me what you’re forcing me to wear tonight?” Elio asked. He hoped it wasn’t so bad.

Marzia went into her locker and took out a bag, and pulled out a silver glittery collared shirt and a pair of denim bellbottoms with a metallic stripe down the leg.

“Oh, no,” he said, taking the shirt from her, feeling the polyester.

“Oh, yes,” she said, with a grin. “You are definitely wearing that tonight.”

Elio took out his phone and texted Oliver so he’d be prepared for the absurd outfit.

* * *

After they finished their shift, Elio and Marzia took the subway back to his place, to get ready for the night.

They poked their heads into the main house to say hello to the Perlmans.

“Marzia! It’s so nice to see you!” Annella said, giving the girl a kiss on the cheek.

“Dr. Perlman, Mrs. Perlman,” she said, politely.

“Please, how many years have I known you? Call me Sammy.”

“I know, it just feels weird,” she said.

Mafalda came into the room and asked, in Italian, “Are you two going to join us for dinner, or are you going out tonight?”

“We’re going out, but we’ll need to eat before then. We can just grab something quick to eat.”

“Nonsense. I’ll whip up something for you. What time are you leaving?”

“I think we’re meeting Chiara at the park at 7:30,” Marzia said.

“How does chicken parmigiana sound?” Mafalda asked.

“Sounds amazing,” Marzia responded. “You’re too good to us. Elio’s so lucky.”

“Don’t I know it,” he said, giving his Aunt a kiss on the cheek. Sammy walked over to Elio and ruffled his hair.

Mafalda walked into the kitchen to grab an apron and then came back to the living room. “I’ll find you when the food is ready. Will you be up here or in the apartment?”

Elio looked at Marzia, to see what she wanted to do. “Probably in the apartment, we need to get ready for tonight.”

“We’re going to the roller disco in Prospect Park,” Marzia said to the Perlmans. “Except it’s on ice skates. But it’s still disco themed.”

“Papa, maybe I could have borrowed some of your old clothes to wear tonight,” Elio said.

Sammy laughed. “Just how old do you think I am? I was only a kid when disco was popular.”

“We should go downstairs and change, but we’ll see you in a little bit,” Elio said, grabbing Marzia’s arm and dragging her out of the room so they could go down to his apartment.

The two went through the backyard and opened the door to Elio’s garden apartment.

Marzia opened her backpack and took out the outfit she was going to wear tonight. It was a low-cut, red sequined dress, and a pair of tights to wear underneath. She went into Elio’s closet and put both of their outfits on hangers so they would unwrinkle a bit. Elio plopped down on his bed, and grabbed his phone from his pocket to see if Oliver had texted. Nothing. He threw his phone on the charger so he’d have a full battery tonight. Marzia then laid down next to Elio on the bed.

“Do you think Ethan will be there tonight?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Should we ask Chiara?”

Marzia shook her head. “No. If we ask her, then it seems like I care, and I don’t want people to know that I care.”

“He was a jerk, anyway. I can’t believe he broke up with you because he wanted to be free to ‘have fun’ in college, but still had six months left in the school year. You can do so much better than Ethan Carpenter.”

“Oh, like Elio Perlman?” she said, raising her eyebrow.

“Someone like me, yes. But not me. We’re too close for this to ever work,” he said. Also, his mind was on someone else.

“I know,” she said. “But it’s fun when we fool around.” She rolled on top of Elio and pressed her lips to his. He returned the kiss, running his hand through her hair. _I like kissing Marzia,_  he thought. _But I wish I was kissing Oliver._

After a few minutes, Marzia pulled away from the kiss. “Are you okay? You’re not really into the making out tonight,” she said, lying down next to him again, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” he said. “My mind is just elsewhere today.”

Marzia wasn’t stupid - she was perceptive of how Elio had been acting lately. “You like someone.” she said, grabbing his hand. “Spill. Who is it? Who is it?”

“Not saying,” he said, smiling. He’d tell her, once he figured out how Oliver felt.

“Someone in our grade? Someone at Brooklyn Prep? Someone from your NYU classes? Tellllll meeee!” she said.

Elio laughed and rested his head against Marzia’s. “I’ll tell you soon, okay?”

“Okay, fiiiiiiine,” she said.

They laid in bed for a little while longer, talking about what to expect tonight and whether some of their friends were actually going to wear disco-themed outfits. Mafalda rang the doorbell for the apartment, and they jumped out of bed, and went back upstairs to eat. Sammy and Annella sat with them in the kitchen while Elio and Marzia scarfed down the chicken parm, linguini, and sauteed zucchini.

“Thank you, Zia Mafalda,” Elio said, his mouth full of food. “As usual, this is amazing.”

After they ate, they went back down to the garden apartment to change. Marzia quickly put on her dress and worked on perfecting her 70’s-style makeup, and Elio put on the bellbottoms and shirt that Marzia had bought for him.

“I look ridiculous,” he said, looking in the full-length mirror.

“No, you look great. I’m taking a picture,” she said, taking out her phone and snapping a photo before he could object. “I can use this as blackmail in the future.”

“I hate you,” he said, sticking out his tongue.

“Love you, too!”

Marzia went into the bathroom to add some volume to her hair, and then grabbed some mousse and fluffed Elio’s curls a bit. “Hey, stop that,” he said, swatting her hand away. He looked in the mirror, and he had to admit that he kind of liked how his hair looked, coiffed with product.

Elio’s doorbell rang, and Oliver, Howie and Jill were at the door. “Is this too much,” Howie asked, opening a plastic bag and pulling out a wig with long, flowy hair. Jill had teased her hair, and was wearing it puffier than usual.

“No, it’s hilarious,” Elio said. “Come in, this is my apartment. Howie, Jill, this is my best friend, Marzia. Marzia, you sort of met Oliver at Booklyn a couple of weeks ago,” he said.

Everyone sat in the living room and got acquainted. “Mind if I change in the bedroom?” Oliver asked, holding his backpack. “Howie and Jill are already dressed.”

“Go ahead,” Elio said, with a smile. Oliver soon came out in a bright pink, metallic shirt, with the top few buttons unbuttoned, exposing his chest hair. He was also wearing shiny white pants that flared at the bottom and were slightly too short on him. Howie whistled and Oliver pretended to model in the living room. Elio admired how confident he was, even in this outfit.

“This was the best Deb and I could do with two days’ notice,” he said. Howie was wearing a flowery button down shirt and a regular pair of jeans, and Jill was wearing a shirt with brightly colored vertical stripes.

“Shall we head toward Prospect Park?” Marzia suggested. “It’s about a mile and a half walk from here.”

Everyone nodded, grabbed their coats and bags, and walked out the door.

As they walked, Oliver asked, “So how long have you two known each other?”

“We’ve been best friends since the fifth grade,” Marzia said, grabbing Elio’s arm.

“The principal put me in Marzia’s class because she spoke Italian, so I’d have someone to speak with. When I moved here, I refused to speak English at my first school, kind of as a protest for being forced to move to a new country, so when I started at Brooklyn Prep, they thought she would help me acclimate,” Elio admitted.

“And two hundred years later, we’re still best friends,” she said, smiling.

“Sounds like it was rough for you at first,” Oliver said. Howie and Jill were about half a block behind them, walking slower than Marzia, Oliver and Elio.

Elio nodded. “It was. I didn’t want to leave Italy, and when I got here, the kids in my class were so mean to me, so I closed myself off, responded in only Italian or French to my teachers, and got really depressed for a long time. The English protest made sense when I was ten years old. My parents pulled me out of the public school, and enrolled me at Brooklyn Prep the next year, and that’s where I met Marzia.”

The only people whom he’d told this to were Marzia and Chiara. It felt good to let someone else know about a small snippet of his past. He wasn’t embarrassed, not about his depression, but he didn’t often talk about it openly. Marzia nodded when Elio was talking about this, but didn’t interrupt.

The five of them eventually reached the skating rink. They paid their admission, grabbed their skates, and went to the benches to tie them. Chiara was already on the bench with a few of their classmates. No Ethan in sight. “Elio! Marzia!” she called out, waving from a bench. Chiara was wearing a low cut, tight fitting shimmery one piece. Elio secretly wondered what you did when you went to the bathroom - do you take the whole thing off each time? Were there secret zippers?

They sat at the bench next to her, and Elio introduced her to everyone she hadn’t already met. He could see Chiara eyeing Oliver from head to toe. She was definitely into him.

Once he put on his ice skates, Elio was having a hard time bending over to tie them, so Marzia got on the floor and tied his skates for him.

Chiara corralled the group and led them to the rink. The DJ was playing _Ladies’ Night_ by Kool and the Gang. Howie hobbled onto the ice, and Jill grabbed his hand to keep him steady. Oliver wobbled a bit, with his high center of gravity, but he quickly found his balance and was upright.

Before Elio could skate up next to him, Chiara swooped in next to Oliver and started talking to him. Elio felt uncomfortable interrupting, so he skated next to Marzia, who grabbed onto his arm for support.

The next song the DJ played was  _YMCA_ by the Village People. Most people on the ice began doing the motions with their arms, but Elio saw that Chiara had grabbed onto Oliver’s arm after he started swiveling his hips and moving his arms around. He wondered what they were talking about. During the chorus of the song, as he was making an A with his arms, Howie slipped and fell, and his wig went flying across the ice, landing by Elio’s feet. Elio picked it up and handed it back to him once Howie was back on his feet. “Are you okay? Anything hurt?”

“Just my ego,” Howie said, putting the wig back on. “If you can’t tell, I’m not the best ice skater. Not sure what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay, Howie. I’ll help you,” Jill said, holding his hand, letting him use her for balance.

After a few songs, Elio noticed that Chiara had still glommed onto Oliver. Elio went off of the ice to sit down for a few minutes, and Marzia followed. “Are you okay?” Marzia asked. “You seem kind of grumpy.”

“I’m fine,” he said, buying a bottle of water from the bar. “Do you want a water, too?”  
  
“Nah, I’ll just have some of yours.”

They sat on a bench and watched their friends skating. Oliver said something to Chiara, who was laughing hysterically. Elio visibly grimaced.

Marzia put her hand on Elio’s shoulder. “Elio… the person you like… it’s Oliver, isn’t it?”

Elio stopped for a moment, looked at her, and nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, you’ve been glaring at Chiara since we got here, and it looks like you want to murder your only friend besides me, so yeah, pretty obvious to me.”

He sighed really loudly, and placed his head on her shoulder. “Marzia… I don’t know what to do about it, though.”

She punched him jokingly in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me about it sooner? How come you never told me you liked guys? Oliver is HOT, I support this wholeheartedly.”

“I didn’t know I liked guys until Oliver walked into the bookstore. Maybe I always knew? I don’t know. But I’ve never felt like this about ANYONE. When I see him, my heart races, and get so nervous and lightheaded.”

“Do you know if he likes guys?” she asked.

Elio shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I have no idea how to read him. I was thinking about maybe seeing if he wanted to get food tomorrow and I could talk then, but seeing him with Chiara now, I don't know if I can wait. Though... he did pose naked for me on Wednesday when I only needed to draw his face…”

Marzia dropped the bottle of water. “Wait, he did WHAT now?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you. He was the model in my art class last week. His friends made him do it as a punishment for losing fantasy football, he didn’t know I’d be in the class. I didn’t finish one of the drawings of him, so he came over so I could finish drawing his face, but he offered to do the same pose so I could do the whole drawing from scratch since I rushed through the first one.”

Marzia looked like her jaw might hit the floor. “So… he was naked in your apartment, by his own volition. And nothing happened?”

“We had a… a moment, when our hands accidentally touched, but otherwise, no.”

“I’m willing to venture a guess that he likes you, too. Why are you sitting here with me? Get on the ice and go get your man! I’ll grab Chiara.”

Elio was incredibly relieved that Marzia just accepted his crush on Oliver, with no question or complaint, and encouraged his pursuit. She was truly the best.

“Thanks, Martz. I love you,” he said, kissing her cheek after they stood up.

“I love you, too. Now, come with me.”

She dragged him onto the ice, and they skated up next to Chiara and Oliver. _The Hustle_ was just ending, and _I Feel Love_ by Donna Summer was starting to play.

“Hey, Chiara, can you come with me for a second? Want to join me for a trip to the bathroom?” Marzia asked. “There’s a little bit of lipstick on your teeth, and we should probably fix that.”

“Oh, fuck. Thanks, Martz,” she said, letting go of Oliver’s arm. “I’ll see you later, Oliver?” she asked.

“Sure, I’ll see you later,” he said, smiling at her. Elio skated up next to Oliver. He looked over at the wall, and Howie was now clinging to the wall for dear life, while Jill skated next to him, her head in her hand.

“Having fun?” Elio asked Oliver, skating alongside him.

“I am! Your friend Chiara is… something,” Oliver said.

He nodded. “Yeah, she can be forceful sometimes, but she’s pretty much my only other friend besides Marzia, so we love her.”

As the song played, Oliver said, “I actually like this song, some of the other songs they’ve played have been super campy.”

“Yeah, this is one of the most beloved disco songs. When they were recording the _Berlin Trilogy_ , Brian Eno told David Bowie that this song was the way of the future, that it was going to change dance music, which it basically did, with the way it uses the synthesizer and the moog and how Donna Summer sings the chorus,” Elio said.

“Wow. Is there anything you don’t know?” Oliver asked, smirking at Elio.

Elio shook his head. “I know nothing, Oliver.” They kept skating around the rink, at the same pace, and Oliver’s shoulders were very close to Elio’s.

“Well, you seem to know more than anyone else I know, about pretty much everything. Except sports,” Oliver said.

“If only you knew how little I really know about the things that matter…” Elio said, shyly.

Oliver looked down at Elio and said, “What ‘things that matter’?”

Elio flitted his eyelashes, looked over at Oliver, and lowered his voice. “You know what things…”

As he said this, Elio began to lose his balance, and Oliver grabbed his hand to keep him steady and prevent him from falling. Elio held on tight as he regained his balance, but once he was upright and stable, he kept holding on, and squeezed tighter.

“You okay?” Oliver asked, his hand still clasped to Elio’s.

“Better, now” Elio responded. The two men looked at each other, nodded, and smiled. They kept holding hands for a few laps around the circle, when they simultaneously realized their private moment was in a very public rink. It was a crowded rink, but Elio didn’t care who saw, not that he was sure his friends or any of his classmates saw them. They kept skating in silence for another lap or two, their fingers imperceptibly, but intentionally, grazing each other’s.

“Elio,” Oliver said, while _Funkytown_ began to play. “Should we… should we go sit on the benches over there, and talk, maybe?”

“I have a better idea,” Elio said. “We’re not too far from my favorite part of Prospect Park. Should we go return our skates and go for a walk?”

Oliver nodded. “I’ll meet you at the lockers. Let me just go tell Howie and Jill where I’m going.”

Elio looked around the rink for Marzia and Chiara and didn’t see them, so he skated off of the ice, returned his skates, and texted Marzia to let her know he was leaving.

Oliver met Elio at the counter, returned his skates, and grabbed this things.

“So where are we going?” Oliver asked, placing his hand on Elio’s shoulder. _Car Wash_ was blasting over the rink speakers.

“There’s a little part of the park near here called Duck Island. C’mon, let’s go,” he said, walking toward the exit, his stomach and heart doing nervous loops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end on a little bit of a cliffhanger...
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and messages and support. Have I ever mentioned how much I appreciate you all?


	11. Duck Island

**Saturday, March 2, 2019**

Once they left the rink, the two boys walked in an awkward silence for a bit. “It’s this way,” Elio said, turning a corner and walking off the path and onto the grass, up a small hill.

“Do you come to Prospect Park a lot?” Oliver asked, looking around. Even though it was the evening toward the end of winter, there were still plenty of people afoot.

Elio nodded. “Yeah, I ride my bike around here a lot, and in warmer months, I come here, usually to where I’m taking you, and read or sketch.”

“It seems less hectic than Central Park, and has more space than Riverside Park. I think I like it here,” Oliver said.

“Oh, it gets plenty crowded, but I like it more than Central Park. It’s a few blocks from home, and it’s big enough that I can find a space all to myself.”

They reached a small plateau under a patch of trees, and Elio said, “This is my spot. See that over there?” he said, pointing to a tiny island in the lake. Oliver nodded. “That’s Duck Island. There are a ton of interesting birds that fly around over here because they live on Duck Island.”

“I don’t think I took you for a bird watcher,” Oliver said. Elio sat down on the ground, and Oliver sat down next to him.

“I’m not, not really,” Elio said. “I just like this area because it’s calm and this patch of grass is usually pretty quiet. But sometimes it’s fun to watch the ducks. My Great Aunt, Aunt Mafalda, would sometimes take me here to feed the ducks when we first moved here, after my parents pulled me out of school. My parents both worked so she would watch me during the day. My grandfather was too sick to really leave the house most days, but on days he was feeling a little better, we’d push him around the park in a wheelchair.”

Oliver laid down on the grass, and Elio followed suit. “So, it was your father’s father and it’s your mother’s aunt?”

“Yep. But Aunt Mafalda is genuinely the best person in the world, and she helped take care of my grandfather when my dad had to work. And helped raise both my mom and me. She’s amazing.”

“Sounds it.”

They turned to face each other, each propped up on one arm. Elio’s hair was in his eyes, and Oliver used his free hand to brush it out of his face. “I… Can I ask you something?”

“Ask away.”

“Did you mean to hold my hand before? Or were you just trying to keep me from falling again?” Elio asked, his cheeks turning rosy.

“I grabbed your hand at first so you wouldn’t fall, but I didn’t want to let go after…” Oliver said.

“Okay,” Elio said, with a smile. “I didn’t want to let go, either.”

Oliver placed his hand on the side of Elio’s face, slowly running his thumb along his cheek. Elio leaned into Oliver’s touch, closing his eyes, thinking about how nice it felt that Oliver was intentionally touching him. When he opened his eyes again, Oliver was even closer to him. _It’s now or never,_ Elio thought.

Elio slowly pressed his lips to Oliver’s and kissed him gently. Oliver returned the kiss, placing his hand at the nape of Elio’s neck. The kiss was everything Elio wanted it to be, and more. Oliver tasted sweet, remnants of the soda he’d had at the skating rink still on his tongue. His tongue. Oliver’s tongue was in his mouth, deftly dancing with his own. Elio could feel his heart racing in his throat. They kissed for what could have been thirty seconds or could have been an hour - time had begun to lose all meaning. Elio wanted to live in this kiss forever.

His arm began to fall asleep, since he was putting all of his pressure on the arm propping his body up, so Elio pushed Oliver to the ground and rolled on top of him, not breaking the kiss. _Too many layers between us, I want to feel closer to him,_ Elio thought, and he started to unzip his jacket, trying to pull it off. He sat up for a second, pulled off his jacket, not caring how ridiculous he looked in his shimmery disco shirt. While he wasn’t kissing Oliver, he took the opportunity to unzip Oliver’s jacket, too. Oliver wriggled out of his jacket, and then pulled Elio back on top of him, resuming the kiss. _Oh, fuck,_  Elio thought, when he felt himself getting hard. His crotch was pressed against Oliver’s, and before he knew it, he could feel Oliver’s own erection pressing through his tight white pants, against his leg. This made Elio equal parts nervous and happy, but he just didn’t want to stop kissing.

Eventually, Oliver pulled away from the kiss slowly, and Elio groaned in disappointment. “Elio, we need to talk about this,” he said.

Elio shook his head. “Or we could kiss more.”

“I would like that, very much, but I really think we need to talk first.”

“What about? I like you, Oliver.” He said it. Out loud. It felt good to say.

“I just… my life is a little complicated right now, and you need to know everything before we can do any more kissing, or anything like that,” Oliver said.

Complicated? That didn’t sound good. “Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, not like that. I’m single, and I like you very much.”

“It feels like there’s a second half to that sentence,” Elio said with a frown.

“I… my… let me just tell you the whole story, and then we can figure out where to go from here, okay?”

Elio nodded, and Oliver continued. “If you haven’t been able to tell, I’m gay, and I’ve had a thing for you since the moment we met. I’ve been out to my family since high school, and they’re supportive of it, but… they’ve asked me to keep my relationships private. I mean, I can tell them about it, but just, sometimes I’ll need to be secretive.”

That didn’t sound supportive to Elio at all. If his own parents knew about Oliver, they’d love him, and support him wholeheartedly. “Why does it have to be secret?” Elio asked.

“My dad… he’s a politician. He’s a Democrat in a pretty red place, but he’s become pretty popular and wins his elections, and his team is worried that if the voters knew he had a gay son, it would turn into a big scandal and could ruin his political aspirations. Any small thing could damage his chances.”

“How is having a gay son a scandal? It’s 2019.” Elio’d spent most of his formative years in New York City, where people didn’t bat an eyelash at two men or two women together. It was a normal, accepted facet of life.

“I know, Elio. My family doesn’t care. My mother has said in the past that she wants me to find a nice Jewish boy, and I think she’d love you. But we live in the South. And my dad’s advisors just think that it could tarnish his image. He’s planning on running for a higher office soon, and they want the family to stay squeaky clean and perfect. It’s bad enough he’s a Democrat and a Jew.”

None of this made any sense to Elio. Why couldn’t Oliver be who he was because his father was a politician? “Higher office? What does he do right now?”

“My dad is Michael Morgenstern.”

“Like… the Senator that everyone loves who might run for President next year?”

“That’s my Dad,” Oliver said. “He’s the Junior Senator from Tennessee.”

“So… do you have your mom’s last name?”

“No, my last name is Morgenstern.”

“But you put it in my phone as Jordan,” Elio said, thoroughly confused.

Oliver nodded. “I know. My middle name is Jordan. I just… I didn’t want to tell you about who I was or what my family did at first. A lot of people try to get close to me because of my Dad’s connections, and I just wanted to get to know you more. I needed to know that I could trust you. And I know that I can.”

“So, let me get this straight. Pun not intended. Your name is Oliver Morgenstern, not Oliver Jordan. Your dad is a United States Senator, and he’s running for President. And you have to stay in the closet to protect his political career.”

“Yeah, that’s all correct. Though, not just to protect **his** political career, but my own future one, as well. They want my sister and me to follow in the family business. My grandfather was a Congressman in Connecticut for years, my Dad was a Congressman and is now a Senator, and they’re trying to groom Hannah and me to go into politics, too. She’s at Harvard Law right now. Thus, why I’m being forced to take the LSATs and follow in their footsteps. It’s bad enough I didn’t go to Harvard like the rest of the family, Columbia was a concession for them.”

“This is insane, Oliver,” Elio said, at a loss for words.

“I know. But I had to tell you about this, you had to know what you were possibly getting yourself into.”

“Does anyone else know that you’re gay? Does Deb? Does Howie?” Elio asked.

“Everyone you’ve met, all of my friends, they know. No one cares, obviously. I… I haven’t done such a great job of hiding it, but my friends are all good people and won’t spread anything around. Also, no one seems to care about who I am or what I do in New York, which is a welcome change from DC, so I’ve been able to let down my guard here.”

Elio scrunched up his face in thought. “I guess… I just don’t understand why you have to keep it a secret.”

“My dad’s advisors, they think that in the South, maybe in the Midwest, that some people who don’t quite lean to the left politically, but don’t necessarily vote Republican all the time, will look for any reason to not vote for a candidate. Remember how many people found Hillary unlikeable because she was a woman but didn’t have an actual political reason for not liking her? Having a gay son could be that reason, especially for what they call ‘family values’ voters.”

“So… what does that mean for you…. For your dating life?” Elio asked.

“In high school, I mostly dated guys in secret. My parents met them, Deb and a few other friends knew, but in DC, I just couldn’t really go out in public. Everyone cares about what politicians and their families do there. In New York it’s been easier, no one cares. I’ve let my guard down here, mostly. But when he announces his candidacy, I might have to be more careful,” Oliver said. “And if he actually winds up winning, I’m going to wind up having a Secret Service security detail, and that’s going to make life messy.”

“This isn’t fair to you,” Elio said. “Why can’t you just… be who you are?”

“I know it’s not fair. It sucks, a lot. My sister can go on dates with her boyfriend, but I’m not supposed to go on dates with guys. I’ve mostly not listened to them, and done what I wanted since I started college, but with the presidential election season starting up, I might have to start listening to them, I’ll have to be good. I love my Dad, and this is a shitty situation for us, but he’s a good person, with really big ideas and important beliefs, and I think he could actually make a difference in this country. Sometimes I have to remind myself that my sacrifice will be worth it. He’s the real deal. I believe in him, and not just because he’s my dad. He argued with his team for a long time, didn’t want me to have to do this, but I agreed to it.”

Oliver put his head on Elio’s shoulder, and Elio ran his hand down Oliver’s arm.

“So… what could this mean for us?” Elio said. “Not that there is an us… just… hypothetically speaking.”

“I think we’re past hypotheticals here,” Oliver said. “It means… we live our lives, we do what we want to do, but when the time comes, we might have to be cautious, is all. It’s just… people can’t know who my father is or what he does. Your family, Marzia and Chiara, that’s fine, but only people you trust.”

Elio nodded. This seemed unfair, but doable. But, he liked Oliver so much, and he wasn’t going to let that stop him from pursuing him. “So does that mean you can still kiss me?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

“It does.”

“Good, because I really, really liked kissing you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past two weeks, since we met at the bookstore,” Elio said.

“Neither have I. It was cute when you were flirting with me when we were talking about books. And when you couldn’t stop staring at me during your art class.”

“I was definitely staring, I hoped you wouldn’t notice. But I… I wasn’t flirting… I think. I didn’t really know what I was doing. I’ve never felt like this, about anyone before, male or female. I didn’t even know I liked guys until you walked into Booklyn.”

“That explains that moment on Wednesday, with your notebook, when I posed for you… I thought you might kiss me then,” Oliver said. He waited a minute, and then said, “This isn’t an experiment for you, is it? I just need to make sure. If you’re questioning or confused, we’ve all been there, I can handle that, but I’ve been burned in the past by guys who slid back into the closet after sleeping with me once. I really like you. I don’t want to get hurt again.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t really know what I am… gay, or bi, or something else, but I know that what I’m feeling for you is real. This has been a very confusing two weeks. Seeing you naked in my art class helped me piece together and understand some of what I was feeling. But, I’ve never kissed a man before I kissed you tonight.”

“Well, maybe you need to practice kissing a certain man some more, then,” Oliver said, pulling Elio onto his lap. Elio wrapped his legs around Oliver’s waist, pressed his body close to Oliver’s, and kissed him again. They were both a bit cold, not wearing their jackets, but neither wanted the extra material between their bodies in this moment.

Elio ran his fingers down Oliver’s neck and throat, and slowly curled his fingers into his exposed chest hair. Elio loved that Oliver’s pink shirt was unbuttoned so low, and mentally thanked the 70s for this otherwise inadvisable fashion choice. They kissed, and kissed, and kissed some more. They rolled around in the grass, Elio on top of Oliver, Oliver on top of Elio, facing each other on their sides. Elio had never felt this happy, this ecstatic in his life. Elio reached over to Oliver and placed his hand on Oliver’s crotch, feeling his hardness under his hand. Oliver grabbed his hand and moved it away.

“Elio… not here… not yet,” he said.

“What? Why not?” he said.

“It’s not that I don’t want it… it’s just that, first of all, we’re in a public place. Second, you said you’ve never been with a man before. I like you, and I want everything to be good for you. I want you to feel ready. Let’s just take things slowly,” Oliver said. “I think I need to take things slowly.”

He nodded sadly, agreeing somewhat with Oliver.

“I’ve rushed into things before, and I don’t want to do that with you. Things feel different with you, we’ve vibed so well… I just don’t want to ruin anything by taking it too quickly. Also, it’s getting late, and I need to get back home,” Oliver said. “I have LSAT class in the morning, remember?”

“Want me to walk YOU to the subway this time?” Elio said. Oliver nodded with a smile. They stood up, put their coats back on, and Elio led them out of the park. They walked hand in hand, and Elio asked, “Can we take the long way, at least?”

“Definitely. I don’t really want this night to end,” Oliver said.

Elio’s cheeks turned pink, and he said, “It doesn’t have to. You can come back with me.”

“As much as I would love to do that, I need to be at my class early tomorrow morning.”

They slowly walked up the northwest path in the park, toward Grand Army Plaza. They chatted happily, never letting go of each other’s hands. It took about 25 minutes to get to the subway station. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to my place?” Elio asked.

“Elio… I want to, so badly, but I have to be up at Columbia early in the morning,” Oliver said. “I want to take this slow, remember?”

“I know, but I had to ask,” Elio said, getting on his tiptoes to kiss Oliver again. Oliver wrapped his arms around Elio, pulling him in tightly, returning the kiss with equal fervor. Neither wanted to let go of the other. As Oliver slowly pulled away from the kiss, Elio playfully pointed his tongue and licked up Oliver’s lip, which caused both of them to laugh immediately after.

“Good night, Elio,” Oliver said, grinning as he walked down the subway stairs sideways, not breaking his eye contact with Elio until he had to turn the corner toward the turnstiles. Elio stared at Oliver’s ass as he walked down the stairs, and smirked when he noticed a few grass and dirt stains on the white fabric, thinking about how that must have happened when they were rolling around in the grass together.

Once Oliver was in the station, Elio put his hand over his racing heart, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath while he grinned uncontrollably. Did tonight really happen? Was this real life? Oliver is gay. Oliver is gay, but for unfair political and familial reasons, has to stay somewhat closeted. Oliver likes him. He kissed Oliver. He didn’t just kiss Oliver. He made out with Oliver. For what might have been several hours. Elio had no idea what time it was.

As he walked home, Elio took his phone out of his pocket to call Marzia and tell her about what happened. He hadn’t looked at his phone since he and Oliver left the rink, and he had many missed texts and a couple of missed calls from Marzia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kisses, and kisses, and more kisses! This is only the beginning of their kissing journey.
> 
> So, we've reached the plot twist I've kind of been hinting at since the beginning. The political stuff will mostly be in the background, but it's going to be present in their lives. Instead of internalized homophobia, Oliver has to be "good" to help his father's political career. I'll revisit this more in the future. Don't worry, it won't affect the fluffiness between Elio and Oliver :)
> 
> Thank you all for your continued kind words <3


	12. Ladder of Perfection

**Saturday, March 2, 2019 - Sunday, March 3, 2019**

Elio unlocked his phone and saw how many messages he had from Marzia. He probably should have kept in better touch with Marzia tonight, but he was so caught up in Oliver that he'd been ignoring his phone. Once he read through all of Marzia's messages, he responded, and caught her up on the evening's happenings.

 

 

 

 

 

Just as he was about to go to bed, Elio saw he had a text from Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief interlude with Elio's conversation with Marzia - I split this up from the next chapter because there's a lot of texting in that one, and I thought it was just too many images otherwise.
> 
> I thought you were all going to hate the Oliver's family plot twist (the Oliver Twist? :D), so thank you so much for your nice words :)
> 
> Also, I've decided to just keep any last names I came up with for _Tikkun Olam_ , so Oliver is Morgenstern, Marzia is Giordano, Chiara is Alfonso, etc. I was too lazy to come up with new names or new characters (thus, why Howie, Deb and Jill are holdovers from my last story). Sorry if this is confusing for you!


	13. Reaching and Overeager

 

**Sunday, March 3, 2019**

Elio took off his disco costume and flopped onto his bed in his boxer shorts. Oliver liked him. OLIVER liked him. Oliver LIKED him. Oliver liked HIM. Elio was in disbelief about the entire night. The situation with his family seemed unfair, but Oliver handles it well. At least he was still willing to kiss him and hold his hand on the street. All Elio wanted to do was kiss Oliver, he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of it.

He was too wired and horny to sleep. He went into his closet, grabbed the bathrobe that Oliver had worn a few days prior (that he made sure not to wash), and brought some of the fabric to his face, smelling it, looking for the lingering scent of Oliver. He then took off his boxers, and put the bathrobe on, without closing it. Just the thought that Oliver had worn this robe while naked was enough to get him hard. Elio laid back in bed, gripped himself, and began to tug, thinking about the kisses he’d shared with Oliver merely an hour or two ago. He remembered what Oliver looked like, standing naked in his living room, and how badly he wanted him here with him again tonight. He’d felt Oliver’s erection press against him, and he was hard when Elio grabbed his crotch - the idea that he may have turned Oliver on was enough to push him over the edge, and he came quickly, across his abdomen and stomach. He grabbed a tissue, cleaned himself off, and after getting ready for bed, fell asleep naked, clutching the bathrobe.

The next morning, he woke up, threw on some clothing, took his medication, and went upstairs to say good morning to his parents. They were sitting in the kitchen as Mafalda brewed some coffee.

“Do you want me to make you anything for breakfast, mon chéri?” Annella offered.

“It’s okay, I’ll just have some Nutella and toast. And some coffee, please,” he added, looking at Mafalda, who brought him a mug.

Sammy put down his iPad and took off his glasses. “Oh, good morning, Elio. Sorry, I was distracted by the crossword puzzle,” he said. “It’s a particularly challenging one today.”

“It’s a Sunday, isn’t it supposed to be challenging?” Elio asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever finished beyond a Thursday without your help.”

Mafalda put toast in the toaster for Elio, then brought the coffee pot to the table and poured coffee for Elio, his parents, his uncle, and herself.

“Did you and Marzia have a nice time last night at the skating rink?” Annella asked. “How late were you out?”

“I got back around 12:30 maybe? It was really fun, I had a REALLY good time,” he said with a smile, thinking about Oliver. He’d tell them about him, but not yet. He wanted to keep this to himself (and Marzia, but she didn’t count) for just a bit longer.

The toaster dinged, so Elio got up to grab the toast, brought the Nutella to the table, and sat back down.

“What are your plans for the day?” Sammy asked.

“Homework, mostly. I have a paper to finish for AP Lit, a book to read for my Italian class, and I wanted to practice the piano.”

Annella grabbed a spoon and dipped it in the jar of Nutella. “Sounds like you’ve got a packed day ahead of you.” After another spoonful of Nutella, she added, “Mind if we leave you some money to order in dinner tonight? Your father and I are getting dinner with his colleagues on the Upper East Side, and Zia Mafalda and Zio Manfredi are getting dinner with friends in Dyker Heights.”

Elio nodded. “Sure, that works for me.”

Sammy grabbed the jar of Nutella and was about to dip his finger in, until Mafalda tsk’d at him. “Are you feeling better than you were last week?” he asked.

“I told you, nothing was wrong last week, but yes, I feel fine. Great actually. I’m having a really good week.”

“Good,” Sammy said, rubbing Elio’s back. “I only pester because I love you.”

“I know, papa. I love you, too.”

After breakfast, Elio went back to the apartment and opened his laptop to work on his paper for his lit class. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and saw he had a few texts from Oliver. His heart skipped a beat as he unlocked his phone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A date. Elio asked Oliver out on a date. In about eight hours, he was going on a date with Oliver. He clutched his phone to his chest and rolled around happily on his bed, nervous about this evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boys are going on a date!!
> 
> Thank you all for your continued comments :)


	14. The Glam Squad

**Sunday, March 3, 2019**

Eventually, he got back up and went to the living room to his piano, where he sat and played until lunch. He was able to calm himself down, and he practiced the piece he was auditioning with for the school talent show at the end of the semester.

He joined his family upstairs for lunch (his aunt made turkey and some vegetables), and then managed to actually get some of his paper written for his lit class. In the late afternoon, he FaceTimed Marzia.

“Hey loverboy,” she said, puckering her lips. She was in the staff room at Booklyn.

“Hey Martz. I need your help.”

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Great, actually. I… I asked Oliver on a date tonight.”

Marzia screamed into the phone, and he heard Nia, their manager, in the background asking if she was okay.

“AND?”

“And we’re getting dinner in the village tonight. I need your advice on what to wear.”

“I think your disco shirt would definitely look nice,” she said, sticking out her tongue.

“I’m serious, Marzia. What should I wear? I want to look good. I want him to like me.”

“Elio, he already likes you, he made it pretty clear yesterday.” She placed the phone on the table so she had both of her hands free. “Take the phone over to your closet and show me what’s clean.”

Elio opened his closet and slowly panned through to show Marzia his long sleeve shirts and sweaters. “What do you think?”

“How fancy of a restaurant?” she asked.

“We’re just getting ramen.”

“Can we conference in Chiara? Can we tell her?”

Elio nodded. “We can tell her. She’s the most fashionable person we know, and I was going to tell her about Oliver eventually.”

Marzia grabbed her phone, pushed a few buttons, and added Chiara to the FaceTime conference call. “Hey Kiki!” Marzia said.

“Hey guys!” Chiara said, sitting on her bed. “What’s up?”

“We need your help,” Marzia said. “Elio’s going on a date tonight and can’t decide what to wear. You’re usually our personal glam squad.”

“Ohhhhh! A date? Who is she? Do I know her? Spill, Elio!” Chiara said.

Elio could feel his cheeks heating up. “I’m going on a date with… Oliver.”

“Oliver Oliver? Like, the guy I was flirting with all night?”

Elio nodded. “That Oliver.”

Chiara let out a scream similar to the one Marzia had made several minutes earlier. “Elio! There is a lot to unpack here, but first, why didn’t you tell me you liked him last night? I would have backed off!”

“I know, I just… you were already skating with him, and I felt bad interrupting,” Elio said.

“I feel bad now! I’m sorry! Marzia, is that why you told me I had lipstick on my teeth when I definitely didn’t?”

Marzia nodded and started laughing. “I couldn’t just flat out tell you why I was grabbing you, in front of Oliver like that…”

“Fair point. I’m not mad. Second, how come you never told me you were bi? Gay? Are we labeling this?”

“No labels, I’m still trying to figure that out for myself. All I know is that I really like Oliver,” Elio said.

“He’s hot, and he’s really awesome, I see why you like him. I’m coming over to help you. I’ll get on my bike, and I can be there in fifteen.”

“You don’t have to do that, Chiara,” Elio said

“Oh, I know, but this is big, and I want to help,” she said with a smile.

Marzia frowned. “Ugh, guys, I wish I could be there! I’m stuck here until 6, and my uncle will get mad if I just leave in the middle of my shift!”

“It’s okay, Martz, you are the reason this is happening in the first place. You helped give me the courage to talk to him yesterday.”

“I love you both. Send me a picture of what you look like after you’re dressed, and you’d better call me or text me after your date, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, Martz.”

Chiara blew a kiss at the phone.

“Love you both. Talk later.”

* * *

 

Twenty-five minutes later, Chiara rang his doorbell. She was carrying Meatball. “Is it okay that I brought him? My parents wouldn’t let me leave unless I took him for a walk, so I figured I’d walk him here.”

Elio grabbed the dog from Chiara and let him lick his face. “Of course. Hello, Meatball,” he said, his voice in a higher pitch, scratching behind the dog’s ears. He put the dog down and let him run around the apartment.

“So, what time is your date?” Chiara asked.

“We’re meeting at 7.”

“And where are you going?”

“We’re just getting ramen in the Village, nowhere fancy,” he said.

Chiara led herself toward Elio’s room, where she opened his closet and began looking through the shirts on hangers. “Too casual, too big, too boring… here we go, try this one on, let me see how it looks,” she said, handing him a slim fit J. Crew button down with red and white vertical stripes.

Elio took his shirt off and threw the new shirt on, buttoning it quickly. “Perfect. It fits you well, it’s not too casual and not too fancy, Oliver will love you in it. Or love taking if off of you,” she said, sticking out her tongue.

“It’s not that kind of date, we’re just getting dinner,” he said, blushing.

“Where are the skinny jeans I made you get from Rag and Bone?” Chiara asked, nosing through his jeans.

Elio nudged her aside so he could dig through his closet himself. “Here they are,” he said, handing them to her.

“Perfect. Wear a white t-shirt under the button-down and layer it all with your denim jacket. I think that’s all you’ll need outside today. If I told you to wear shoes that are nicer than your Chucks, are you going to listen to me?”

Elio shook his head. “Probably not.”

“Okay, then pair that all with your Chucks. Now, get dressed, so I can do your hair. I’ll go wait on the couch with Meatball while you change,” she said, whistling for her dog to come over to her.

Elio changed in the bedroom, and came out to the living room, sitting down on the couch next to Chiara. Meatball crawled from her lap to his, plopping down and rolling onto his back so Elio could scratch his belly.

“I’m nervous, Kiki,” he said. “What if I embarrass myself? Or he doesn’t like me?” Meatball let out a contented noise while they both scratched his belly.

“He definitely likes you, he talked about you a lot when we were skating yesterday. And he said yes to a date. He knows it’s a date, right?”

Elio nodded. “Yes, he knows it’s a date. We kissed yesterday…”

Chiara squeezed Elio’s arm happily and grinned at him. “El, can I ask you something? If I’m offending you or you don’t want to answer, that’s fine.”

“Go ahead,” he said, anticipating her question.

“Have you always liked guys? How come you never told me until now?”

“I… I honestly don’t know if I have. Oliver is the first guy I’ve ever felt like this about. Maybe I’ve found other men attractive in the past? At first I just thought I found Oliver intriguing, that I wanted to be his friend, but I quickly realized that I liked him.”

“Well, he seems great, so I’m happy he likes you, too. I hope the date goes well tonight. You’ll have to give me the details later tonight or in school tomorrow. Promise?”

“Promise,” Elio said.

“Let’s get started on your hair,” she said. “You’re lucky I’ve got curly hair, too, so I know how to make your hair look good.”

Elio already used shampoo and conditioner for curly hair that Chiara made him buy. That was the most effort he put in - no matter what he did, his curls had a mind of their own. He followed Chiara into the bathroom, and she made him put his head under the faucet in the sink to wet his hair.

“Did you wash your hair this morning?”

“Yes.”

Chiara opened a bag she brought with her, and took out some mousse, pomade, and other hair products that he could not tell you about. “Go grab a chair and bring it in here, we’re going to be here a while.” Elio dragged the stepstool into the bathroom and begrudgingly took a seat.

“Can I move yet,” he asked, fifteen minutes later, as Chiara fluffed and scrunched and blow-dried his hair.

“No,” Chiara said. “I’m almost done.” A few minutes later she said, “Okay, you can get up. Take a look.”

Elio had thought his hair had looked nice the day before, when Marzia put some mousse in an attempt to give it some 70s volume, but Chiara had outdone herself. Every curl was springy and in place, with a few stray curls perfectly positioned on his forehead. “You’ve outdone yourself, Chiara,” he said, admiring the hair from different angles. “You might have to show me how to do this another time.”

“Any time,” she said. “Now, do you want Meatball and me to hang around until you leave, or do you want some time alone before you head out?”

“I don’t mind the company,” he said. “Should we watch some funny dog videos on YouTube?”

“You know what I like,” Chiara said, going back to the living room, where Meatball was taking a nap on the couch. He woke up when they sat on the couch, and snuggled between them, so he could get scratches from both of them at once.

At 6PM, Elio said, “I should probably head out in a few, thank you for helping me get ready.” He grabbed the denim jacket Chiara was making him wear.

“No problem, I hope you have a great time! Say hi to Oliver for me, and apologize to him for taking up most of his time yesterday,” Chiara said with a chuckle. She clipped Meatball’s leash back on him, threw on her coat, and headed to the door with Elio. Then, she reached over, fluffed his hair with her fingers once more, and said, “You look great.”

“Thanks, Kiki,” he said. They walked together until they hit the subway station. “See you tomorrow,” he said, giving Chiara a hug, and went down into the station.

Elio was glad he didn’t have to wait long for the subway. He got to the restaurant fifteen minutes early, so he circled the block a few times, eventually going into the restaurant. Oliver wasn’t there yet, but the host escorted him to the table and said he’d bring over Oliver when he arrived.

He nervously kept checking the time. 6:50. 6:53. At 7, there was no sign of Oliver. 7:03. 7:08. 7:12. Elio felt like he was going to start crying, but he held in his tears. He just knew he was being stood up. This was what he got for putting himself out there, being vulnerable and telling someone how he felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what'll happen next? :P
> 
> You all continue to be the best! Thank you for your comments and support <3


	15. Date Night

**Sunday, March 3, 2019**

 

Elio felt an immense sense of relief once Oliver texted him. He wasn’t standing him up! He was just stuck on the subway! He flagged the waiter and ordered some edamame to nibble on while he waited (he also felt guilty for keeping a table while he waited for Oliver).

Finally, Oliver arrived, his face flushed, looking out of breath. He bent down and gave Elio the briefest of pecks on the lips. Elio brushed his fingertips over his lips, retracing where Oliver’s lips just were. Any residual sadness or anger that Oliver had been ditching him quickly evaporated. _I guess he’s not being that secret?_

“I’m so sorry, Elio,” he said, as he got to his seat and took his jacket off.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s the subway, what else is it going to do besides wait while the train ahead stops for a sick passenger on a Sunday evening?” Elio said, smiling. 

Oliver’s hair was a bit mussed, as he had obviously run here from the subway, but he looked handsome. He was wearing a grey sweater and slim cut maroon slacks that cut off at his ankle. “You look really nice,” Oliver said. “I like your hair like that.”

“You look great, too,” Elio said shyly. He was about to tell Oliver the effort Chiara put into fixing his hair, but he decided not to.

The waiter brought over the edamame Elio ordered, poured a glass of water for Oliver and handed him a menu. Oliver apologized to the waiter for being late, as well. “Everything looks amazing,” Oliver said, glancing over the menu.

“I ordered this for us to share,” he said, placing the edamame in the center of the table. He and Oliver each grabbed a stem and began munching while they perused the menu.

“Would you want to split a couple of appetizers and then each order a bowl of ramyun?” Elio asked.

Oliver nodded, eating another bit of edamame. “That sounds great. What are your thoughts on the cucumber kimchi and the tuna?”

“You read my mind,” Elio said, smiling. “Which soup are you thinking about?”

“The wagyu sounds amazing but it’s double the price of all of the others. Maybe the fish?”

Elio batted his hand and said, “Don’t worry about the price, it’s on me. Order what you want.” He had asked Oliver, so he figured he’d be the one to pay tonight.

“I’ve changed my mind again, I think I want the pork,” Oliver said, reading the menu several more times.

“I’m going to go for the vegetable and mushroom. But everything sounds good, so I might need to come back again soon and try the rest,” Elio said.

The waiter came by and took their food and drink orders, and Elio took a sip of his water.

“When did you become such a foodie?” Oliver asked.

Elio shrugged. “I don’t know. My great aunt is a really good cook, and I think growing up eating her food made me appreciate a well-cooked meal. My parents always took me to dinner parties and fancy restaurants when I was a kid, and I loved trying new things. At some point in junior high, Marzia and I decided we wanted to try every good pizza place in the city, being the good Italians that we are, so I guess I got obsessed from there. What about you?”

“It was definitely moving to New York for college. There is just so much good food here, I’m never happy settling for a meal that’s just okay.”

Elio lifted his glass to clink it with Oliver’s. “To good food, and even better company,” he said.

When he put his glass down, Oliver reached across the table and gently held Elio’s hand, running his thumb along Elio’s palm, sending shivers down Elio’s spine. They laced their fingers together, absentmindedly touching each other’s hands until the appetizers arrived.

“So, what else is there to know about you, Elio? You play music, you can draw, you like reading. You’re already a pretty complex person.”

“I know I want to do something with music with my life, but I don’t know if I want to go into academia like my dad, or if I want to perform. Both are hard to break into. But I don’t really know who I’d be without music. Playing piano was the only thing that made me happy when we moved here when I was in elementary school.”

Oliver nodded. “I get that. This isn’t the first time you’ve brought up the move. It seems like it was traumatic for you.”

“It was. I’m fine now, mostly, but all of those life changes at a young age were really hard on me. My parents thought it would be an easy transition because I already spoke English, but I was bullied at school, and the city was so frantic and busy and everything overwhelmed me.”

“It was a big enough change moving from Connecticut to Tennessee, I can only imagine how hard it was moving to another country,” Oliver said, with an understanding tone.

“I’ll tell you something you should know about me. You trusted me with your biggest secret, I’ll tell you mine. From what I understand about it now, part of it was biological, and it was probably always going to happen, but the move triggered a severe depressive episode, which led to my clinical depression diagnosis. I’ll likely be taking medication for the rest of my life, and will regularly see a psychiatrist, but it’s mostly under control now,” Elio said. “Have I said too much? Did I get too dark too quickly? I’m sorry if I’ve scared you off.”

Oliver squeezed Elio’s hand. “Why would this scare me off? Taking care of your mental health is important, and it sounds like you have a handle on your depression. Also, this is New York, I bet two-thirds of the people in this restaurant regularly see a shrink. Depression is nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said, reassuringly.

“It’s mostly under control. Sometimes I still have days where I just can’t get out of bed or find the motivation to move, but those are few and far between. The summer I was fifteen I decided to stop taking my medication because I was feeling better and couldn’t quite understand that it was the medicine that was making me feel better. Stopping cold turkey is pretty rough on your body - I am never doing that again,” he said.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” Oliver said. “I’m glad you feel comfortable sharing something so personal with me.”

“I trust you,” he said, “and I don’t want to keep anything from you. I figured it was better to tell you now, so if you weren’t comfortable with it, you’d know now.”

The waiter placed the appetizers between them, and they began to eat. The food seemed to lighten the mood, and the conversation flowed. At some point, Elio vented about how his Italian professor takes off points for grammar. “She’s not a native speaker of Italian like I am, she doesn’t get the nuance of some of the things that I’ve written, which are grammatically correct.”

“Why do you take Italian if you already speak it?” Oliver asked after taking a bite of tuna.

“It’s a literature class, and I figured I never got to take that in Italy because I came here when I was younger, so I’d take it now and not lose my academic Italian skills. My mom wants me to take some French classes next year, though, because she wants me to get better at speaking French. I speak French when I’m alone with her, but that’s about it.”

After they finished their appetizers, the waiter brought their bowls of ramyun (Korean ramen), and they began slurping their noodles and soup. “Mind if I try yours?” Oliver asked.

“Only if I can try yours,” Elio said. They reached across the table with their chopsticks and soup spoons.

Elio took a big bite of his noodles, and asked, “So why are you majoring in philosophy? How did that happen?”

Oliver laughed and said, “I took Philosophy 101 my freshman year and I really liked it. Definitely interested me a hell of a lot more than my legal studies class. My parents wanted me to study economics and political science, but it doesn’t matter what you majored in when you apply to law school, and I argued that a philosophy degree would set me apart from other applicants. I’m minoring in polysci, though.”

“How come you don’t want to be a lawyer?” Elio asked.

“Besides wanting to be different from the rest of my family and forging my own path? I’m just not interested in it. I’d rather get a PhD and become a professor, but that doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards for me,” Oliver said, sighing.

“Have you talked to your professors about it? Or an advisor?”

“Sort of, but my advisor keeps telling me the things I’ll need to do for law school, he has a pretty one track mind.”

Elio tilted his bowl so he could swallow more broth quickly. “Do you want to talk to my Dad about this? He’s not a philosophy professor, he teaches classics, but he is a college professor, and he’d be a neutral party with professional experience. He generally gives good advice,” Elio said.

“You would want your parents to meet me?” Oliver asked. “Do they know about… that you’re…” Oliver didn’t finish the sentence, but Elio knew what he meant.

“ **I** don’t even know if I’m gay, or if I’m bi… this is all very new to me,” Elio admitted. Oliver reached across the table and softly held his hand. “They don’t know, but they wouldn’t care. Their closest friends are a gay couple, who annoyingly always try to set me up with their daughter. My parents are super liberal and open about everything, and I think they would really like you.”

Once they finished their soup and the waiter took their bowls away, the check was placed on the table. Oliver went into his wallet to put down a card, and Elio grabbed the check before Oliver could do anything. “I’ve got it,” he said. “I asked you, remember?”

“I’ve got the next one, then,” Oliver said.

“The next one?” Elio said, with an eyebrow raised.

“I mean, if you’d want to get dinner with me again…” Oliver said, suddenly less self-assured than he usually was.

“No! I mean, yes! Of course I’d want to do this again!” Elio said.

Elio looked at his watch, and it was still fairly early. He cursed himself for suggesting a restaurant that wasn’t near either of their apartments, because right now, he just wanted to make out with Oliver again like they had done the night before.

Oliver must have read Elio’s mind. “Do you want to go get a drink somewhere?” Oliver suggested. “I’m not quite ready to go home yet.”

“It would need to be somewhere that wouldn’t realize my ID is a fake,” Elio said.

“I know a place that’s maybe two blocks from here. Let’s go,” he said. After they put their coats back on and went outside, Oliver reached for Elio’s hand, and they walked with their hands clasped together.

They walked into an unmarked bar two blocks down with a rainbow flag in the window. Elio had never been to a gay bar before. “I used to come here a lot before I turned 21, they don’t card,” Oliver whispered before they stepped inside. “Did you intentionally choose a restaurant off of Christopher Street?” he asked with a wink.

“No,” Elio said, feeling embarrassed. “I just picked a restaurant I’ve wanted to try that was halfway between us.”

“I’m just joking with you,” Oliver said, squeezing Elio’s shoulder.

Elio followed Oliver into the bar, and Oliver said, “Why don’t you grab a table and I’ll go get us something to drink? Do you have any preferences?”

He shrugged. “Dealer’s choice.”

Elio sat at a table in the corner of the bar, and looked around. The bar was nothing like he expected. It looked like… a normal bar or restaurant, just with a few rainbow, bisexual pride, and transgender flags scattered on the walls. Oliver quickly found the table and sat on the bench next to Elio, sitting close to him.

“I just got us each an IPA, I hope that’s ok.”

“I’m not sure what that means, but I’m sure it’s great,” Elio admitted.

“Not a beer drinker?” Oliver asked. “I can go get you something else, a glass of wine or a cocktail…”

He nervously brushed a curl of hair behind his ear and said, “No, this is great, thank you. I just don’t go out that much, and most parties have whatever shitty beer someone has been able to buy with a fake, or get an older sibling or a parent to buy, so I don’t really know from good beer.” He took a sip and thought about it. “This is a little bitter, but it’s good.”

Oliver explained how IPAs are brewed, about the hops and the bitterness. “Am I boring you?” he asked.

“No, it’s interesting. And I like how passionate you are about it,” Elio said, thinking about how cute it was when Oliver went off on a tangent about something he enjoyed.

“I’m as into good beer as I am into food,” Oliver said.

They talked, and they drank, and they both started losing track of time. They had both finished their drinks, but neither wanted to leave the table or the other to go to the bar and order another round. As they spoke, Oliver placed his hand over Elio’s, and they clasped hands once more. Elio loved these small touches from Oliver, and he wondered how he’d survived 18 years without this.

“This bar isn’t what I was expecting it to be when we walked in,” Elio said.

“What were you expecting?” Oliver asked, brow raised.

“I don’t know… something flashier? Maybe something more like a roller disco?” Elio said.

Oliver laughed and smirked at Elio. “Oh, Poodle, you’ve got a lot to learn about gay culture. I can be your guide. Not all gay bars are like that. I mean, some are, but some are just normal pubs like this one.”

Elio could feel his ears heating up, and he hoped Oliver didn’t realize how embarrassed he was.

“No, I thought that, too, before I started going to bars,” Oliver said.

“How did you find this place?”

“Deb’s older cousin is gay, and he goes to NYU for grad school. He told her about it, and she took me here our freshman year.” Oliver told Elio about some of the different bars and clubs around the city that cater to LGBTQ clientele, which ones are worth going to and which are not.

Later, Elio told Oliver about the piano pieces he was practicing earlier, and told him the interesting history of the composer and how the song was written. “I like how passionate you are about music. It’s cute,” Oliver said. Elio thought that Oliver hadn’t been paying attention, but once he got started, he couldn’t stop. This reaction was reassuring, and Elio wasn’t sure how to respond, and if he was appropriately flirting back. Instead, he just smiled at Oliver, looking into his soulful blue eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Oliver asked. _It’s about damned time,_ Elio thought.

“Yes, please,” he said, angling his head toward Oliver’s. The kiss started out slow and gentle, with Oliver taking the lead. Oliver soon ran his fingers along Elio’s scalp, playing with the curls Chiara had so expertly coiffed several hours prior. Elio liked this very much, and moaned softly into the kiss. He placed a hand on the small of Oliver’s back as he pressed his body closer to Oliver’s. He desperately wanted to take this further, to pull their clothing off and feel skin against skin, but unfortunately, they were at a bar, and not in the privacy of their apartments. His kisses with Oliver had been different than any other kiss he’d had in his life - they were warmer, full of desire and longing, but also a softness that Elio couldn’t quite put his finger on. It all just felt right.

The kiss was eventually interrupted by a bartender who came to the table to collect their empty glasses. “I wonder how often that happens to him,” Elio said, using a napkin to wipe some stray saliva from under his lip.

“I’d say fairly often,” Oliver said, pointing to a few other tables where people were kissing or flirting. “He’s likely seen much worse than two people kissing.”

Elio looked at his phone and saw that it was getting fairly late, and each of them had a 45 minute train ride and school in the morning. “I would love to stay here longer with you, but I should probably go home soon, I have school in the morning,” he said sadly.

“I’d like to do this again at some point this week or next weekend, if you’d like to?” Oliver asked.

Elio raised his chin at Oliver and gave him a toothy grin. “Do you mean the kissing, or the date?”

“Well, both, if I’m being totally honest…”

“I’d really like that,” Elio said.

“Great! We’ll plan in the next couple of days, then?”

They put their coats on and headed toward the subway, hand in hand. Oliver leaned down and gave Elio another quick kiss at the stairs of the subway entrance. “We’ll talk later?” he said softly.

Elio nodded and said, “Definitely. Thank you for coming tonight, I had a really nice time.”

“I did, too. Good night, Elio,” he said, giving Elio one more quick kiss. Elio liked that he was having a hard time keeping his hands off of him. He went down the stairs for the downtown train, and Oliver crossed the street for the uptown train. When they were on the platforms, they stood across from each other, and waved, as Elio’s train pulled in. Elio was in such a deliriously happy daze that he almost missed his transfer to the Brooklyn-bound train at Chambers Street.

How was he going to pay attention in school tomorrow morning or at work in the afternoon knowing that Oliver liked him, and wanted to go on another date with him? All he’d be able to think about was Oliver’s hand on top of his, his lips upon his, Oliver’s tongue in his mouth. The entire subway ride home, he kept replaying the kisses over and over in his head. He still had no idea where he stood on the Kinsey scale, and didn’t think it actually mattered, but this past weekend solidified his desire for Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NYC note: we have reception in most subway stations, but not on the actual train unless we're in a station or the train is above ground (but in Manhattan, pretty much all of the stops are below ground - there are a few in Harlem that go above ground). If you're stuck between stations underground, you're pretty much screwed, thus why Oliver couldn't text Elio until the train moved.
> 
> I told you all that you didn't need to worry :) I did enjoy all of your comments about why Oliver wasn't there (and a few of you figured it out).


	16. I'm Coming Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the weird format for the group text threads, but this was the best way I could find to post 3 people in a conversation. Elio is in grey, Chiara is in green, Marzia in blue. I'll keep that format for the whole story.

**Sunday, March 3, 2019**

Once he got out of the subway at his stop, Elio was filled with adrenaline. His date had gone swimmingly. He loved kissing Oliver, and wanted to do a lot more of it as soon as possible.

He couldn’t help himself, and started skipping down the block. When he turned the corner, he saw his parents, his father’s arm around his mother’s shoulder, walking home. He ran to catch up with them.

“Maman, papá,” he called out, a few feet behind them.

“Oh, hello Elio,” Annella said. Elio kissed each of his parents on the cheek.

“Did you have a nice dinner with your colleagues?” Elio asked, as they began walking again.

“We did! We went to Alyosha Petrov’s apartment, a few others were there. You remember him, right?”

Elio nodded. “Big beard, thick Russian accent, his wife always has lipstick on her teeth?”

“The very same.” Annella stifled a laugh at Elio’s apt assessment. “You look happy. What kept you out so late tonight? I take it you didn’t order in?”

“No, I went out for dinner,” Elio said. He took a deep breath and decided to tell his parents. “Actually, I went to dinner in the Village on a date.”

“With Marzia? That’s twice in one weekend, you two must be getting hot and heavy,” Sammy said jokingly.

“For the hundredth time, Marzia and I aren’t dating, we’re just friends. She’s my best friend, that’s it. It wasn’t Marzia, it was someone else.”

“Do we know her?” Sammy asked. “Does she go to your school?”

Elio shook his head, trying to summon the courage. “No, and no.”

“What’s her name?” Annella asked softly.

He took one more deep breath, and sighed to himself, hoping it was inaudible to his parents. “His name is Oliver.”

Sammy and Annella glanced at each other quickly, and then both looked at Elio with accepting smiles. “Where did you meet this Oliver?” his father asked.

“At Booklyn, he came in last month and I helped him find some books. We’ve been talking since then. He’s a junior at Columbia - he’s the one whose shabbat dinner I went to.”

Annella nodded. “He’s a lot older than you are,” she pointed out.

“He’s not a lot older than me, I’m 18 and he’s 21. Three years is nothing,” Elio pointed out.

Sammy pulled his hat over his ears when a gust of wind swept through. Elio regretted having worn only the denim jacket. “How long have you two been seeing each other?”

“This was our first date,” Elio said. His phone buzzed and he grabbed it to see who messaged him.

 

Elio had a goofy smile on his face the entire time he was texting and began ignoring his parents. “Elio? Watch where you’re going, it’s dark out,” his mother warned.

“Sorry,” he said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Was that Oliver?” Sammy asked.

Elio nodded. “It was. He was just telling me that he just got home and that he had a nice time with me tonight.”

Annella gripped Elio’s shoulder and squeezed it warmly. “Well, I’m happy for you. I hope things go well with him.”

“Actually, papá, can I have him meet you, at your office or at home, some time? He’s kind of going through an existential crisis about whether he should pursue academia like he wants to, or go to law school like his parents want him to do, and I suggested that he talk to you.”

Sammy placed his hand on Elio’s back. “I’d love to talk to him, then. Anything I can do to help. Set something up for us?”

The three Perlmans reached their brownstone. “Bonne nuit ma chérie,” Annella said, kissing Elio’s cheek.

“Good night,” he said, still wrapped up in how well his evening went, and how shockingly easy it was to tell his parents about Oliver. He imagined this wasn’t the last of the questions, but now they knew and he wasn’t hiding anything from them.

Once he got into the apartment, he took out his phone and texted Marzia and Chiara to update them on his night.

 

Eventually, Elio fell asleep, excited about what the week ahead held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you expect the Perlmans to be anything but accepting of Elio's sexuality? They are the best parents, no matter what universe the story takes place in.
> 
> If you know of a better text generator, let me know, and I can fix the group chat. I realize the colors are a bit confusing but I couldn't find one that let you have three participants, so I used the green/blue to differentiate who was speaking.


	17. Is That Too Cheesy?

**Monday, March 4, 2019**

Predictably, Elio was in a daze the entire school day. He may as well have not even attended AP Lit because he had no idea what was discussed. Marzia had to get his attention a few times during pre-calc because he was too busy daydreaming about Oliver.

Chiara and Marzia grilled him about his date during gym class. While they walked around the track, Elio caught Chiara up to speed on Oliver’s situation with his family.

“So I just think I’m a little confused about this keeping it a secret thing, because he kissed me at the restaurant, he held my hand on the street, and we made out at the bar,” Elio said. “Does he just mean that things have to be on his terms?”

Chiara shrugged. “I don’t know. I think you need to talk to him about it.”

“I know that you’re going to be confused and possibly angry until you know exactly how it stands,” Marzia added. “I think you should talk about it in person, though, don’t text it.”

“You’re probably right, I’ll ask Oliver next time I see him. Not sure when that will be, but he said he wants to go on another date this week or over the weekend,” Elio said.

“Ooooooh!” both girls cooed together.

“Shush,” he said, blushing. “I told my parents about him last night.”

“How’d they take it?” Marzia asked. “Knowing your parents, they were understanding and told you that they love you no matter what?”

“Not even that. They just accepted it and didn’t ask any questions, at least about Oliver being male. They wanted to know where I met him, and warned me that he’s older than I am.”

Chiara put her arm around Elio and said, “That’s what I would have expected from them. Your parents are awesome.”

“Both of your families would have been the same way,” Elio pointed out.

“Sure, they’d accept it, but you know my parents would have fought over who had the bigger rainbow flag on their window and who could donate more money to the Trevor Project or something, and made it about themselves instead of me. But they would have bought me a ton of things in the process, so I’d both win and lose,” Marzia said. “Having divorced parents sucks.”

When their teacher blew the whistle to get them to pick up the hustle, they jogged for about thirty seconds, and then walked again. “Do you think you’re going to have sex with him?” Chiara asked.

Marzia hit her on the arm. “Chiara! You can’t just ask him that!”

“Why not? He asks about our sex lives,” Chiara said.

Elio stared down at his toes. “That’s not entirely true. You both talk about it nonstop, I don’t ask you about it.”

“So, are you?” Chiara asked.

“I don’t know!” Elio said in an exasperated tone. “Oliver and I have only kissed twice, and went on one date. And I’ve never had sex before, I don’t want to rush into anything.” That wasn’t true. If Oliver invited him over tonight and wanted to sleep with him, Elio would be on the next uptown train. He’d never wanted anything or anyone more than he wanted Oliver right now, and he was trying as hard as he could to temper some of these feelings. He didn’t want to come across as pathetic or desperate, but he also needed to know what it felt like to physically be with Oliver.

Marzia started speaking in a hushed tone. “If you did sleep with Oliver who would… you know…”

Chiara smirked and said, “I mean… Oliver would probably be a top… Have you SEEN him? How tall he is and how big he probably is?” she added, holding her hands in front of her, parallel to each other, holding them about a foot apart from each other.

Marzia laughed and asked, “Is he as big as we’d imagine, Elio?” she said, nudging him.

“WAIT, I thought you said you only made out?” Chiara said, her jaw dropped.

“We DID only make out. He lost his fantasy football pool and as a punishment, he had to be a nude model for an art class. Which accidentally happened to be my art class at NYU. And then when I didn’t finish the first picture, he came over last week and modeled for me again so I could finish the assignment…”

“WHAAAT?” Chiara screamed, and their teacher looked over at them with a dismissive glance. “I can’t believe you saw Oliver naked and didn’t tell me about it yesterday when I was doing your hair!”

“Do you think you would… bottom for him?” Marzia asked.

Elio shyly nodded. “I… I think so. I’m still not quite sure how… it would all work. Won’t it be painful?”

“I imagine if it was painful, gay men wouldn’t willingly be having sex,” Chiara offered.

“But both of you said your first times were painful,” Elio said. “I know we have different anatomies, but still.”

“It was painful, and awkward, but it was good after that,” Chiara said.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Marzia said. “Well, you need to make sure to keep us updated so I can live vicariously through your sex life since I seem to have none of my own.”

Their teacher blew the whistle signalling it was time to head to the locker room and change. “This conversation isn’t over yet,” Marzia said.

“You two are never going to leave me alone about this, are you…” Elio said.

“Nope!” Marzia and Chiara said together.

“It’s because we love you and we want you to be happy,” Chiara said, pinching his cheek.

Elio rubbed his cheek where she pinched him, and said, “Thanks Kiki. I’ll see you two later.”

“Love you!” Marzia said, blowing him a kiss, as they went to their separate locker rooms.

* * *

 

As Elio was changing in the locker room, the boy with the locker next to his, Drew Guzman, turned to Elio and said, “Who’s this Oliver you three were talking about?”

“What? Oh, no one,” Elio said, throwing his sweater back on.

Drew sat on the bench tying his shoelaces. “I don’t think anyone named Oliver goes here, and you all said the name an awful lot. Chiara was loud - she isn’t exactly good at being quiet,” he said, nudging Elio in a suggestive way. Chiara and Drew had never officially been a couple, but they had hooked up a few times earlier in the school year, and he probably still held a torch for her. Most of the males in their class did.

“You shouldn’t talk about Chiara that way. It’s disrespectful,” Elio said.

Drew frowned, knowing Elio was right. “Is Oliver someone she’s seeing right now?” he asked. “I mean, I heard her talking about the size of his dick…”

Elio shook his head. “No… he’s… he’s someone that I’m seeing right now,” he said, before he had time to think about what he was saying.

“He’s… oh… I didn’t know you were… I thought you and Marzia…,” Drew said, processing Elio’s confession.

“Why does everyone think that Marzia and I are dating?” Elio said, exasperatedly.

Drew laughed. “Because you two are always making out at parties and you tell each other you love them?”

He shrugged. “That’s fair. She’s my best friend. We love each other, but we are definitely not together.”

“So this Oliver guy is your boyfriend and not Chiara’s?”

“He’s not my boyfriend… not yet, anyway… we just went on one date…” Elio said, mostly for his own benefit. He hadn’t thought about any of the semantics or logistics of being with Oliver. He’d had more pressing issues, like when he could kiss him again, on his mind.

Drew tied his other shoe and asked, “Are you gay? It’s totally cool if you are, my older brother Justin is gay… I just didn’t know that you were…”

“I’m still trying to figure that out. This is all pretty recent.”

Lowering his voice, Drew said, “Bro, I totally understand. Justin told me he thought he liked guys when we were younger, but it took him a long time to fully come out and figure things out for himself.”

Elio found it strange, having this bizarre bonding moment with his classmate he’d barely spoken to in the past six years he’d been attending this school. He wasn’t embarrassed about his sexuality, and it felt awkward talking to someone who was barely a friend about it, but it also felt nice to know that people supported him.

“I’m going to see how things go with him, and feel it out from there…” Elio said.

“Well, I’m happy for you,” Drew said. “So... Chiara is definitely single right now?”

He chuckled and responded, “Yes, she is single. If you like her, you should just ask her on a date instead of just trying to hook up at parties. I think she’d appreciate someone taking her out somewhere nice. Take her to see a foreign film and for sushi after.”

“Thanks, bro. I’ll text her now.” Elio grabbed Drew’s phone before he could type anything.

“Ask her in person. She’ll dismiss the text as lazy.”

“Got it. Any other advice?”

“Umm… Chiara always does things for other people, so you should just… focus on her, talk about or do what she likes, on a first date. She likes being the center of attention, in a good way, if that makes any sense.”

“It does. I should head to AP Chem, but I’ll talk to Chiara later!”

As Drew walked away, Elio sat on the bench for another moment, wondering what in the world just happened. 

* * *

Marzia worked the register while Elio sat at a table, drawing some shamrocks and leprechauns for Booklyn’s St. Patrick’s Day display. When the store was quiet and their manager was in the stock room, Elio went over to Marzia.

“So… I think I kind of came out to Drew Guzman in the locker room?”

“What? How did that happen?” Marzia asked. “Are you two even friends?”

Elio shook his head. “No, I don’t think we’ve exchanged more than a couple of words here or there since maybe the seventh grade. He overheard us in gym class and asked if Oliver was someone Chiara was seeing, and it kind of just slipped out.”

“Do you think he’s going to tell other people?”

Elio picked up a box of bookmarks at the register and straightened them out. “I mean… probably not, but also, I don’t care if he does. Drew was… really supportive, actually? He told me that his older brother is gay.”

Marzia leaned over the counter. “Justin, the hot one who was three years above us at Brooklyn Prep? I didn’t know that…”

“He only asked me because he’s still crushing on Chiara,” he said. “I told him he has to actually ask her on a real date and not try to sleep with her at a party.”

Elio went back to his table to finish the decorations for the display, and took out his phone to text Oliver.

 

 

 

 

 

Elio walked over to Marzia in a dreamlike state.

“Everything okay, Elio?” she asked.

“I’m going on another date with Oliver on Saturday,” he said. “He’s taking me to the Whitney, and then he’s cooking dinner for me.”

Marzia grabbed Elio’s hand and squealed in delight. “That sounds so nice! I’m so happy for you, El. I really am.”

“I think I’m falling for him, Martz,” Elio said. “He’s just… everything I didn’t realize I wanted.”

“Elio! Get back to work!” Nia shouted from the corner.

“Yes, Nia!” he said, skipping back to the table to finish the decorations. He soon felt his phone buzz, and responded to his texts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elio is lucky to have Marzia and Chiara to talk openly about sex with (or at least, listen to them talk about their own sexcapades). Also, I love writing the texts between Elio and Oliver because they are so squishy and adorable and fluffy :)
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support, I love reading and responding to each comment!


	18. The Whitney

**Wednesday, March 6 - Saturday, March 9, 2019**

Elio spent the entire week texting with Oliver, but he had to keep reminding himself not to let his burgeoning relationship interrupt his schoolwork, and especially his music. On Wednesday, he auditioned for the school talent show with a piano solo, and his music teacher promised he’d be a shoo-in.

Otherwise, it was a fairly uneventful week. He was acing all of his classes, including his courses at NYU, and physically and emotionally, he’d never felt better. As the weather was getting warmer, he was taking his bike out for longer rides in the early mornings before school or in the evening after class and work. He didn’t know if Oliver had a bike, but maybe he’d invite him for a long ride some time soon.

Though he had dinner with his parents every night this week, they didn’t press him on Oliver. He could tell his mother was aching to talk about it, but since he didn’t bring it up, neither did she. Elio knew they could tell he was floating on air.

On Friday morning, as he sat with his family eating breakfast in the dining room of their brownstone, Elio said, “I won’t be home for dinner tomorrow night, so you don’t need to make anything for me.”

“Are you and Marzia looking for another hole in the wall pizzeria?” Sammy asked jokingly.

“No, we make money now, we can afford the good places. Anyway, I’m going on another date with Oliver. We’re going to the Whitney and then we’re going to cook dinner together.”

Annella smiled softly and said, “Oh, the Whitney! How exciting! I liked the Calder exhibit a few years ago.”

“Oh yeah, I liked that exhibit, too. He wants to see the Warhol exhibit. It’s different from the Warhols at MoMa,” Elio said.

Sammy sipped his coffee and said, “I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, but if things start to get serious with him, you know we want to meet him, right? Weren’t you going to have me talk to him about graduate school options?”

“I think you’ll all like him, he’s really smart and kind, and he’s also easy on the eyes. I’ll talk to him tomorrow and see when he wants to meet with you. He’s taking the LSATs in a few weeks, so his schedule has been pretty tight.”

Mafalda brought Elio some toast, and he reached for the Nutella. “I wanted to talk to you about something, about Oliver, actually,” Elio said.

“What is it, dear?” Annella asked.

“So… his father… is Michael Morgenstern, the Senator from Tennessee.”

“Oh, I know him! He’s the one who made that impassioned speech against building a wall last year, right?” Sammy asked.

“Yes, the handsome one, with blond hair,” Annella added.

“The thing for Oliver is… he is out of the closet, to his family, and they support him, but his father’s advisors think that if the public knew he had a gay son, it would hurt his numbers. He’s probably planning to announce his candidacy for President soon,” Elio said.

“So, what does that mean for Oliver?” Sammy asked warmly.

“He’s not allowed to be public about his relationships, so he mostly has to keep everything private. He said his father fought his advisors on this, but Oliver agreed to it to help his dad. I’m just confused about what it means for the long-term.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. This must be difficult for him. Do you think you would want to date him in secret?” Annella asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t think it would really be ‘in secret’ so much as it would be ‘not in public’. I mean… I’ve told you about him, Marzia and Chiara know. I don’t really have anyone else to keep it secret from.”

“Are you okay with this arrangement?” Sammy asked.

“I think so. I’ve never met anyone like him before, and if I want to date him, I have to, don’t I?”

Annella rubbed Elio’s back affectionately, and said, “Well, whatever decision you make, we support you. He’s really special, isn’t he?”

“Oh, he’s so great, maman. Like I said, I think you would all really like him.”

* * *

On Saturday, Elio put on a green button-down shirt (since Oliver said green brings out the color of his eyes) and gave himself an hour for the thirty-five minute train ride to the Whitney in case the train was delayed or ran local. Shockingly, the subway arrived right away, so he had almost half an hour to kill before he met Oliver. Instead, he walked up the stairs to the High Line, and listened to some music while he paced up and down the converted railroad tracks. The High Line was one of Elio’s favorite parks, and he wondered if Oliver would be willing to be with him and hold his hand in such a heavily trafficked and photographed place.

At 5 minutes until 2, he walked back down to the southern entrance of the High Line and headed toward the lobby of the Whitney, where Oliver was already standing, holding two tickets in his hand.

“Hey,” Oliver said, wrapping an arm around Elio and giving him a quick kiss.

“You’re early!” Elio joked.

“I made sure to give myself plenty of extra time. Didn’t want to risk it two weeks in a row,” Oliver said.

Elio smiled softly. “I did, too. I got here twenty minutes ago, so I’ve been walking around the High Line.”

“That’s what I was doing, too! We must not have crossed paths,” Oliver said. “C’mon, I got us tickets, let’s go inside.”

The two went inside, handed their ticket to the ticket-taker, and went inside of the museum. They headed to the Warhol exhibit first, and decided to check out the other installations after.

As they wandered the galleries, they stood very close to each other, occasionally holding hands, or resting their heads on each other’s as they stared at a sculpture or a painting. They took a few selfies, some cute pictures together, or with the art, but Oliver asked Elio not to post it publicly to social media.

“But you look really handsome in this picture,” Elio said, scrolling to one picture in his phone.

Oliver kissed Elio’s forehead, and said, “So do you, but we need to be cautious. Group photos together are fine, or a picture of the two of us when we’re posting pictures with other friends, too, but I just can’t have something posted that might leak. You understand, right?”

“Fine,” Elio said, pretending to sulk. “But you’re missing out on the twelve people who would like this picture.”

“One day I’ll be able to,” Oliver said sadly. “Some day, it won’t matter.”

Elio took Oliver’s hand and held it tightly. “I was only joking.”

“I know, it just makes me sad that I can’t officially be who I want to be. My whole future and persona is carefully crafted by people I don’t even know.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Elio asked.

Oliver nodded. “Of course.”

“What exactly are the rules of this. Are there rules? I just want to know when I’m allowed to hold your hand and kiss you, or when I’m supposed to pretend you’re just a friend. I’ll do whatever you want me to do, I just need to know that I’m doing it correctly.”

“I… I don’t really know. I haven’t really been good about it in New York. Nobody cares about who I am here, so I feel comfortable being with you in public. If I let go of your hand or suddenly freeze up when we’re out, please don’t be offended, because it’s not because I don’t like you. I’m just trying to be cautious. I think we’d have to be more secretive once my father officially announces his candidacy - there might be more eyes on me then.”

“So you’re saying I should take advantage of the anonymity while I can,” Elio said.

Oliver wrapped his arms around Elio’s waist and pressed his lips to Elio’s. “Exactly,” he said, pulling away from the kiss. “I don’t think we’ll be able to do this for much longer.”

Elio took Oliver’s hand and sat down at a bench in the Warhol exhibit. He sat as close as he could to Oliver, and kissed him softly. They kissed like this for several minutes, until Oliver pulled away slowly. “We probably shouldn’t make out like this, in a museum. We’ll save it for later?” Elio nodded sadly.

“Is it okay if I post a picture from the exhibit on Instagram? You won’t be in the picture, don’t worry,” Elio said.

“Be my guest,” Oliver said. “I was thinking of doing the same. What’s your username on insta? Is it too soon to follow you?”

“No, I’d like that.” He’d already scrubbed his account and hidden anything he wouldn’t want Oliver to see. Which wasn’t that much, just some bad selfies from a few years ago. “It’s f underscore flat underscore perlman.”

“F flat Perlman? What does that mean?”

Elio blushed. “F-flat is the enharmonic equivalent of an E in musical notation… E as in Elio… it was a really nerdy name I came up with in junior high. Never bothered to change it.”

Oliver took out his phone and searched for Elio on Instagram and requested to follow him. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s cute.”

“Oliver underscore morgenstern has requested to follow you. I wonder who that could be?”

He shrugged and said, “Dad’s people constantly check our social media feeds. Our usernames have to be straightforward and vanilla, so no one can misinterpret anything. They wouldn’t even let me put a year or my birthday for fear a number would be misinterpreted.”

“Wow, do they micromanage everything in your lives like that?” Elio asked, placing a hand on Oliver’s shoulder to show that he sympathized and wasn’t judging.

“Sometimes. They ran a background check on my sister’s boyfriend before she was allowed to post publicly about him. They did the same to Howie before freshman year after he was randomly assigned to me as a roommate. Scared the crap out of his family. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone shows up on your parents’ doorstep to interview your family when I tell them about you.”

Elio smirked and raised his eyebrow. “What are you going to tell them about me?”

“That I met a strapping young part-French, part-Italian, all-handsome musician who is smart as hell, a little bit sarcastic, and a great kisser. And he’s Jewish, to boot!”

Elio gripped Oliver’s chin, pulling their faces close together, and kissed him again. Each kiss felt as exciting as the first one. Each time Oliver touched him, his heart raced and his stomach did flips. Once again aware they were in a public place, they laughed, and separated once more. “See, I wasn’t lying about you being a great kisser.” They both laughed, and Oliver asked, "So, what did you tell your parents about me?”

“I told them what you’re like, what you study, your family situation, and I asked my dad if you could talk to him at some point in the future about law school and graduate school. He said he’d love to talk.”

“Great! Maybe after the LSATs are over and I have more free time?” Oliver suggested.

The boys each took out their phones and finished their Instagram posts.

 

 

 

After they had explored the museum for several hours, they headed to the subway to go uptown. “We’ll take the 1 to 110th, go to the supermarket, and then go back to my apartment to cook dinner?” Oliver asked.

“Sounds great. What are you going to cook?”

“I’ve already seasoned some chicken overnight. I’m going to make you some Nashville hot chicken, if you’re okay with that?”

Elio rubbed his stomach and said “That sounds delicious! What do we need to go to the supermarket for?”

“I needed to get some ingredients to make side dishes and vegetables. I’m serving you a Nashville-style feast. One of the only things the south does right is food,” Oliver said as he reached into his pocket for his wallet to grab his MetroCard.

Elio thought about how simple, but sweet, it was to take the subway together. They sat side by side, their fingers clasped, and Elio placed his head on Oliver’s shoulder. He couldn't wait until they were alone in Oliver's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just part one of the date - I'll post part two in a couple of days!
> 
> As always, you are all wonderful and I appreciate every single one of you <3


	19. Aye Aye, Cap'n

**Saturday, March 9, 2019**

At the supermarket, they picked up ingredients to make mac and cheese, cornbread, and collard greens. When they got to Oliver’s apartment, Howie was sitting on the couch watching television.

“Oh, hi Elio! It’s nice to see you again! I thought two you were going to be back later…” he said, shutting the television and heading toward his bedroom.

“It’s okay, we’re just going to be cooking. You can hang around if you want to,” Oliver said. Elio smiled at Howie, but secretly wished he would make himself scarce.

“You sure you don’t mind if I finish this episode of _The Office_ out here? I can go to my room and watch on my laptop or my iPad…”

“It’s fine,” Elio said, with a smile. “I’ve never actually seen _The Office_.”

Oliver pretended to be aghast. “Wait, seriously? How did that happen?”

Elio shrugged. “Grew up in Italy? It almost finished its run by the time I moved here. Never got around to it.”

“Please tell me you’ve at least watched _Parks and Recreation_?” Oliver said.

“Nope. Never seen it.”

“That settles it, after we cook, we are watching _Parks and Rec_. It’s vastly superior to _The Office_ anyway.”

Howie shouted from the living room. “I heard that! No it’s not!”

Oliver started taking out various ingredients and placing them on the counter, grabbing various cutting boards and knives and bowls, so they could begin preparing their meal.

“So, what do you watch, then?”

“I prefer movies to television most of the time. Marzia and I took a couple of years to make our way through _The Wire_. Recently, I’ve been watching _The Great British Bake Off_ with my parents and my aunt and uncle. We try to do at least an episode a week together,” Elio said, using a knife to slice the wrapper on one of the different cheeses they bought.

“That’s really sweet,” Oliver said. “I like that you spend a lot of time with your family. I miss my parents and sister a lot. My grandmother still lives in Connecticut, so I’ll sometimes go and visit her on a weekend, but I’ve been bad about it this semester.”

Elio and Oliver hit a good groove while working together in the kitchen. Elio offered his chopping and dicing services, as Oliver wanted to cook everything in very particular ways. He grated cheese for the mac and cheese, cut up onions for the collard greens, greased the baking trays for the mac and cheese and the cornbread, and then measured the ingredients for the cornbread. He then sat on a barstool as Oliver began preparing everything. “Do you want me to whisk the cornbread while you work on everything else?” Elio offered. Oliver passed him the bowl and the whisk and smiled.

“Try to make sure there are as few lumps as possible in the batter,” Oliver said, returning to the stove where he was doing three things at once. Elio admired how many tasks Oliver was able to balance.

The meal took about an hour and a half to cook fully, but Elio and Oliver never had a lull in their conversation. They never even noticed when Howie left the room and went to his bedroom. When Oliver bent over to put the cornbread in the oven, Elio spent a few seconds admiring how Oliver’s slim jeans nicely framed his rear, and thought about how much he wanted to see that ass again.

Oliver showed Elio where they kept the plates and utensils, and asked if he could set the table while he began taking everything out of the oven or off of the stove. They carried the food to the table, they each took enough chicken, collard greens, mac and cheese, and cornbread to feed a small army, and sat down. Oliver popped open a bottle of white wine that he had been chilling, poured Elio a glass, and raised his own glass to toast. They clinked glasses and began eating.

Elio went straight for the chicken first, never having eaten hot chicken before. “Oh my God,” he said, after he took a few bites. “This is incredible.”

“Thanks! I took a cooking class with my mother once, when she had to learn how to make southern dishes so we could pretend we were a good southern family. Hot chicken is one of my favorite Nashville foods.”

“How did you wind up in Nashville?” Elio asked. “Your family is originally from Connecticut?”

“Do you really want the family history?” Oliver asked, chewing on some cornbread. Elio nodded.

Oliver caught Elio up with his family’s background. He grew up in Connecticut, where his father was also born and raised. Oliver’s paternal grandparents grew up in the Bronx, the children of Polish and Russian immigrants, but moved to a gated community in Connecticut when they started making a lot of money after his grandfather became a hotshot attorney. Later in his career, his grandfather ran for Congress, and was a Congressman for decades. Oliver’s mother grew up on Long Island, but met his dad at Harvard when he was there for law school and she was there getting her MBA, and they moved to Connecticut after school. His father was active in the local Democratic party, and he was scouted to start running for office like Oliver’s grandfather. After some research, the party thought he would do well in Tennessee, so the Morgensterns moved there under the guise of Oliver’s mother’s career. His father ran for attorney general, then eventually the Senate.

“Do party politics really work that way?” Elio asked.

“You have no idea. They’ve been trying to figure out what’s best for my sister and me since we were teenagers, because they want us to run one day too, since it’s now a family legacy. We have to remain squeaky clean - it’s why neither of us can smoke pot unless it’s recreationally legal in the place we’re in. That might be the main reason why Hannah and I took a trip together to Denver a couple of years ago…”

Elio laughed and took a sip of his wine. “What does your mother do, that they pretended it was for her career? I don’t think you ever told me.”

“Oh, she doesn’t work anymore, she helps work on campaign things now. She used to work in the music industry. She worked in the business side of a major label in New York, so she was ‘promoted’ to an assistant vice president, but the position was in Nashville. They made it look like my father had to make the career sacrifice to go there, leaving his partner status at a cushy New York firm.”

“Politics sounds like a game of chess - everything is so carefully orchestrated and planned six moves ahead,” Elio said, shoving a forkful of mac and cheese into his mouth.

“Bingo,” Oliver said.

Elio grabbed another bite of his chicken, and noticed he had dripped sauce on his shirt.

“Oh, shit,” he said, trying to wipe the sauce off, only making the stain more pronounced.

“My hands are covered in sauce, but there’s some seltzer in the fridge and baking soda in the cabinet. Why don’t you go into my room and just grab a shirt to change into while yours dries?” Oliver suggested. “Feel free to grab anything.”

Elio washed his hands in the kitchen sink, went into Oliver’s room, which he had never been in before, and decided he felt uncomfortable going through Oliver’s drawers. He really wanted to rifle through all of Oliver's things, get to know him even more intimately by seeing what he owned, but he decided this wasn't the right time. He saw a Columbia t-shirt at the top of a laundry hamper, so he grabbed that shirt and sniffed it, noting that it did not smell bad, but definitely smelled like Oliver. He unbuttoned his green shirt, and threw Oliver’s t-shirt on. He then went back to the kitchen, grabbed some baking soda and seltzer, and worked to scrub the hot sauce out of his shirt.

Oliver noticed what shirt he was wearing and said, “Oh, you could have taken a clean shirt, Elio. I wore that one during my run this morning, it’s all sweaty and smelly.”

“That’s okay, I wanted to wear this one… I like that it smells like you.” Elio said with a sly smirk. He had no intention of ever giving this shirt back to Oliver. "I'm sorry... I'm being too weird, aren't I..."

Oliver smiled softly. "No, it's endearing. Don't ever change."

After they finished their dinner, Oliver poured them each another glass of wine, and they sat down at the couch with plans of watching _Parks and Recreation_. “The first season isn’t great, but I think we need to start there so you can see the evolution of Leslie and Ann’s friendship.”

They snuggled up on the couch, placing their wine glasses on the coffee table. Oliver turned the television on and found the show on Netflix. He clicked play on the first episode, and before the theme song even began, Elio leaned into Oliver and kissed him hungrily. Oliver put the remote on the arm of the couch, and returned the kiss with equal fervor. Elio repositioned himself, sitting on Oliver’s lap, his knees on either side of Oliver’s hips, digging into the couch. Their bodies were pressed against each other, and as they kissed, Oliver reached his hands beneath Elio’s shirt (or, more accurately, Oliver's shirt, which Elio was currently wearing), running his hands down Elio’s back, which sent shivers down Elio’s spine.

Elio moaned softly, losing himself in the kiss. Not only did he want this badly, he needed it. He needed to feel Oliver's hands on his body. Needed to know what Oliver tasted like. Desperately needed to be kissing Oliver and to never stop kissing him. As they kissed, they could both feel the telltale signs that each carnally desired the other, but neither made a move to do more than kiss. And kiss they did, through at least two episodes of the show.

While Oliver's hands were cupping Elio's behind, and Elio's hands were matted in Oliver's hair, they heard a door open and footsteps tiptoe through the room.

"Shit, sorry," Howie said, grabbing his coat. "I'm heading out, I'm going to a party with Jill. I assume you don't want to come along?"

Elio's face turned bright red, and Oliver chuckled, less embarrassed than Elio was. Elio was too frozen to move off of Oliver's lap. "A little preoccupied here, buddy. Thanks though."

"If you're going to get naked, can you at least do it in your bedroom so I don't have to disinfect the couch tomorrow?" Howie said jokingly.

"Aye aye, Cap'n," Oliver said, saluting Howie as he walked out the door and locked it from outside.

Elio climbed off of Oliver and buried his head into Oliver's shoulder. "I'm so sorry... That was so embarrassing."

Oliver shrugged and wrapped an arm around Elio again. "Meh, I've caught him in more compromising situations out here. We were just kissing."

"Do you... Do you want to take it into the bedroom?" Elio suggested.

Oliver took a deep breath and sighed. "If we go into the bedroom right now, I won't be able to control myself with you. I know myself. I really like you, and I am really attracted to you. But I still want to take this slow, if that's okay with you?"

Elio frowned and nodded. "I understand..." he said, feeling incredibly disappointed and a bit rejected.

Oliver realized what Elio was feeling, and pulled him close and kissed the top of his head affectionately. "If I rush into things, I'm going to wind up hurting both of us, and I don't want to do that to you."

"I don't feel like I'm rushing into anything, Oliver. When I want something, I go for it. And I want you."

"You've never done this before, with a guy, right?" Oliver asked.

Elio shook his head. "No, I already told you that you're the first man I've ever even kissed. I've never had sex with a woman, either, if that matters." He wasn't embarrassed telling Oliver this. He wanted Oliver to know that he'd be his first, if they ever slept together.

"Well then, we will take this all nice and slow, because I want all of your firsts to be special. I'll make everything good for you, and it will be worth the wait," Oliver whispered in a sexy low growl, which turned Elio on even more.

Elio arched into Oliver, as he held him close, and they sat on the couch silently for a few minutes.

"How many people have you slept with?" Elio asked, wondering what type of experience Oliver had.

"Hmm... Do you mean strictly penetrative or anyone I've fooled around with?" Oliver asked.

"The former, I guess," Elio said regretting his question.

"Let's see... There was one woman, and... Something between fifteen and twenty guys? I slept around a lot my freshman year and lost count, with the freedoms that New York provided and the whole living on my own for the first time thing. I had two boyfriends during high school, and I've had two in college. I’ve slept with two people since last semester ended, and no one since I met you. " Oliver said honestly.

Elio felt way out of his league now, like he was too inexperienced for Oliver. "You've slept with a woman?" he asked. "I thought you said you were gay, not bi?"

"No, I'm definitely gay. But I was still learning where exactly I stood when I was in high school. Deb was my girlfriend sophomore year of high school, and we slept together once. After that, I realized I was gay, and she and I stayed close friends."

"So I was right to be jealous of her when I first met her!" Elio said with pretend disdain.

"No! She is ONLY a friend. She and Amir have been together for over a year. They are very happy together. I am not interested in her, or any female."

"So she's your Marzia," Elio said, with a slight laugh.

"What do you mean by that?" Oliver asked.

"Martz is my best friend. We occasionally fool around, if we are both single we'll make out at parties. It's a friends who hook up when bored situation. I love her, but I don't think we could ever be a couple, we'd murder each other. She's the only person I've ever done more than kiss with.”

Oliver nodded. "Deb is not quite a Marzia, then. We were friends who flirted, then we dated, now we're only friends. We love each other, too, but I think your relationship with Marzia is more complicated than mine is with Deb.” He reached for his wine glass and took a sip. “What do you mean by fooled around with her? You never had sex, I assume, based on what you said before."

"No, never intercourse. Nothing more than a few hand jobs from her, and I went down on her a few times. That's the extent of my sexual experience, I'm sorry to say."

"Why are you sorry? I don't mind. In fact, if I'm being honest, it's a turn on knowing I'd be the only one you've ever been with, your first for some experiences."

“I want you to be my first,” Elio whispered in an attempted seductive voice. “I want you so badly. I probably shouldn’t be saying that, but I want you to know where my head is at.”

Oliver took a deep breath and pulled Elio in for a slow, sweet kiss, pulling away after a few moments. “You are making things very difficult for me.”

Elio picked up his own wine glass and took a big gulp. “Sorry…”

“You need to stop apologizing! Nothing to be sorry for. C’mere,” he said, patting his shoulder. “Do you want to cuddle and finally watch _Parks and Rec_?”

“That sounds great.” Elio looked at his watch, and it wasn’t too late yet, and he didn’t have work until Sunday afternoon. “I’ll watch a few episodes, and and then head home?”

They watched three or four episodes, finishing off the bottle of wine, and before they knew it, they had fallen asleep on the couch, Elio wrapped in Oliver’s arms. Oliver woke up when Howie and Jill walked in the door.

“What time is it?” Oliver asked, squinting his eyes. Elio opened his eyes, groaned, and closed them again, putting his head back on Oliver.

“It’s only midnight. The party was pretty lame so we decided to come back here,” Howie said. He noticed that Elio was asleep on Oliver’s shoulder. “Should we be quiet?” he whispered.

“No, I should wake him up. He was going to go home a couple of hours ago, but we fell asleep…”

“I’m awake,” Elio said, refusing to move.

Howie and Jill crept to Howie’s room and quietly closed the door.

“Elio, do you want to just sleep here and go home in the morning? I have to get up early for LSAT class, anyway…” Oliver said.

“That’s probably for the best, I’d fall asleep again on the subway,” he said, yawning.

Elio stretched his arms above his head and opened his eyes more. “Come with me, I’ll give you a pair of pajama pants that will be way too big on you, and I’ll let you sleep in my bed. I can sleep on the couch,” Oliver said chivalrously.

“You’re not going to sleep in the bed with me?” Elio asked.

“Is that too much?” Oliver asked.

Elio shook his head. “No, I’d like that… we don’t have to do anything, we can just sleep…”

The pair went into Oliver’s room, Oliver handed Elio a clean pair of pajama pants and went into a closet digging for an unopened toothbrush. He found a spare cell phone charger and gave it to Elio so he could plug his phone in across the room.

After they each changed and brushed their teeth, Elio got into bed with Oliver, who stayed on one side, trying to give Elio room. They spent a few minutes trying to find comfortable positions to sleep in - Elio noticed that Oliver was tossing and turning, trying not to touch or bother him. He silently grabbed Oliver’s arm, wrapped it around his middle, and they both sighed contentedly as they fell asleep in their spooning position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we learn more about Oliver's romantic history and more about his family! Elio is head over heels, and feels in over his head, but Oliver will guide him through everything :)
> 
> I say this every chapter, but you are all so wonderful. Thank you for your comments and support, they brighten my day.


	20. Meet the Parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, but a lot of important things happen in this chapter! Enjoy!

**Sunday, March 10, 2019**

As the early morning sun began creeping into the room, Elio woke up, and realized he was not in his own bed. He squinted and looked around the room, remembered that he had fallen asleep in Oliver’s bed, and sighed happily. He was still safely tucked under Oliver’s arm, in a very comfortable spooning position. Elio didn’t want to move, but unfortunately, he needed to use the bathroom. He very methodically crawled out of the bed, tiptoed out of the room, and quietly entered the bathroom. While there, he decided to brush his teeth so he wouldn’t have morning breath. When he came back into the bedroom, he slid back into the bed, wrapping Oliver’s arm around him once more. Now that he’d slept next to Oliver, and he knew what it felt like to have his body pressed to him all night, how was he going to go back to sleeping in his own bed, alone, every night? This felt laughably cruel.

Unfortunately, Elio hadn’t been quiet or gentle enough, because Oliver began to stir. “What time is it,” he asked.

Elio looked at Oliver’s cell phone on the nightstand and said, “It’s 6:45. Go back to bed.”

“Mmm, did you sleep okay?” Oliver asked, repositioning, but not letting go of Elio.

“I did, you kept me warm,” Elio said, arching his body closer into Oliver’s, his rear rubbing against Oliver’s crotch.

“I don’t think I’m falling back asleep now,” Oliver said, breathing heavily.

Elio turned around and lay on his side, facing Oliver, their foreheads pressed against each other. Even with bedhead and sleepy eyes, Oliver looked incredibly handsome, and Elio couldn’t control himself. He pressed his lips to Oliver’s, looking for a reaction. When Oliver kissed him back, he began kissing more forcefully, biting Oliver’s lip, but careful not to draw blood. Elio couldn’t hold back, desire coursing through his veins, and pushed Oliver on his back, rolling on top of him. He noticed that Oliver’s pajama pants were tented, much like his own, and he so badly wanted to tug the pants off and release Oliver’s erection, but he respected Oliver’s wishes to take things slow.

He made a mental note while they made out, of the things he liked, and the things he really liked. There was nothing he didn’t like about making out with Oliver, except perhaps for how early in the morning it was for a Sunday. He never wanted Oliver to stop playing with his hair, unless it was to run his hands down his back or grip his ass. Elio enjoyed when Oliver nibbled on his earlobe, and he was quite fond of when he sucked on his neck. He’d never had a hickey before (though he’d given one to Marzia), but he didn’t mind, the bruising later was worth the pleasure now. He did feel bad that Oliver was probably going to have one, too. Elio’d been a bit overzealous when kissing the curve of Oliver’s neck, but Oliver didn’t stop him.

They kissed for over an hour, until the alarm on Oliver’s phone began to ring. “Fuck,” he said. “I have to shower and get ready for LSAT class.”

“I can shower with you,” Elio said lasciviously, biting his lip.

“Elio… as wonderful as that sounds, I don’t think we should…” Oliver said, getting out of bed. “I’ll go put up a pot of coffee, feel free to help yourself to a cup when it’s done brewing. Don’t worry, it’s good coffee and not the crap most college students drink - I buy my beans at Stumptown and grind it myself.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” Elio said, grinning.

Elio grabbed his phone and scrolled through his social media feeds, catching up on what his classmates and friends from Italy were up to. He also had some texts to respond to.

 

 

 

 

Oliver came back into the room, wearing a towel and carrying two mugs of coffee. “I brought you a coffee, I thought you might need it,” Oliver said, putting the two cups down on the nightstand.

“Thanks,” Elio said, sitting up and reaching over to grab his cup and take a sip. He smiled at a shirtless Oliver in only a towel.

Oliver went into his drawer, grabbed a pair of boxers, dropped his towel and put the boxers on, giving Elio a brief glimpse of his ass. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at Elio - he knew exactly what he was doing.

“That’s not fair,” Elio said with a pout, as Oliver walked around the room in his boxers, looking to find a shirt and jeans. “This is such a tease!”

“What? You’ve already seen me naked…” Oliver said, smirking. He put his clothes on, and sat on the bed next to Elio, who was still in Oliver’s t-shirt and pajama pants, and they drank their coffee. Oliver reached over to his nightstand, grabbed a pill bottle and a bottle of water, and swallowed a pill.

“Mind if I ask what medication you’re taking?” Elio asked. “Is that too personal?”

Oliver shook his head. “I wouldn’t be taking it in front of you if I was hiding something. It’s Truvada.”

“Truvada? What’s that?” Elio asked.

“It’s PrEP - Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis?” Oliver said. Elio gave him a blank stare, and shrugged. “It helps prevent the transmission of HIV. When you take it, if you are exposed to HIV, you’re nearly 99% less likely to contract it. Doctors recommend men who sleep with other men, who are at risk of exposure, take it as a precaution.”

“Do I need to take it?” Elio asked.

“Do you plan on sleeping with men whose serostatus you don’t know?” Oliver asked. Elio gave another confused look. “Serostatus is HIV status.”

“Are… Are you HIV positive?”

“No, but as you say that, I’m due for a test soon. I don’t think I’ve ever slept with anyone with HIV, and I’ve used condoms with every partner until we’ve been tested, but PrEP has kept me safer. There was one time freshman year a condom broke during a random hookup, I was worried for a while, but I got PEP the next day - that's for post-exposure, you take that if you think to might have been exposed to HIV, kind of like emergency contraception is for pregnancy - I went on PrEP soon after, and I've been getting STI tests regularly since then."

Elio put his coffee down and put his head on Oliver’s shoulder. “How often do you need to get tested?” Elio felt completely out of his league - he'd never heard of PrEP, PEP, and knew nearly nothing about HIV and STI testing. Did they not teach this in his sex ed classes? Was he just not paying attention? Was it just that being with a man brought a whole host of changes and complications he wasn't aware of or prepared for?

“Poodle, I will teach you everything you need to know. HIV and other STIs can stay dormant and can take three months before they show up in tests, so you're supposed to get tested every three months if you're sexually active. My last test was at the end of December, and I haven't slept with anyone since then, so I'm due to get tested in a couple of weeks. Maybe you should go with me and get tested, too? Regularly getting tested together is part of a healthy relationship"

Elio nodded. He assumed he didn't have any STIs, given Marzia was the only person he'd ever fooled around with, but Oliver was making him paranoid, so better safe than sorry.

"Do you need to take PrEP when you're in a relationship?"

"Only if your partner is HIV positive, or if you're in an open relationship. It's meant for people who have multiple partners or are at a higher risk of exposure. I stopped taking it the six months I was with Logan, my last ex. We were in what I thought was a monogamous relationship. He cheated on me multiple times."

This was the first time Oliver had ever mentioned exes by name, besides Deb. Elio didn't want to pry any further into this right now.

"How often do you have to take PrEP?" Elio asked.

"You take it every day, kind of like birth control or an antidepressant. It doesn't really work until you've been taking it regularly for a month, but it is incredibly effective after that. But you have to take it consistently."

Take it every day, like an antidepressant. Elio suddenly realized that he hadn't taken his Lexapro this morning, as he wasn't at home, and didn't have the pills with him. Sleeping at Oliver's had altered his morning routine, and the high he'd been feeling suddenly dissipated. "Fuck," Elio said nervously, his demeanor changing.

"You okay? What's wrong?" Oliver asked, noticing Elio's discomfort. "Did I scare you away by telling you that I take PrEP?"

"No," Elio shook his head. "It seems like the responsible thing to do, to take it. I don't have my pills with me, I need to take my Lexapro. I take it every morning, and I realized I don't have it with me."

"I was going to suggest we grab bagels before I go to the review class, but do you want to just get on the subway and get home so you can take your medication?"

Elio did the mental math. It was going to take at least an hour to get home on the subway. He always took his medication when he woke up. What if not taking it for a few hours would affect his entire day, and throw all of his progress off track? Elio kept playing the worst possible situations in his head, and started gasping for air.

"I need it now, it'll take me too long to get home..." he said nervously. Each breath felt labored and tight, and he pulled his knees to his chest when his body started to tremble.

Oliver started rubbing Elio's back. "Are you okay? Can I do something to help?"

Elio placed his hand on his chest, and took a few more breaths. "I'm dizzy and my chest hurts and I can't breathe. I think I'm having a panic attack."

"Let's get a cab, it says an Uber will take 30 minutes, but it'll be at least 50 on the subway. I'm taking you home."

He nodded and stayed in place, holding his chest as he gasped for air. Oliver picked up Elio's jeans and said "Can you put these on or do you want to just wear the pajamas?"

Elio didn't answer, so Oliver grabbed the backpack and he was going to take to LSAT class with his laptop and books, and put Elio's green shirt and jeans, making sure his wallet and keys were still in the pocket, in the bag. He went into the hallway, picked up Elio's jacket and his Chucks, and helped him put his shoes and jacket on. Oliver quickly put his own shoes and coat on, handed Elio his iPhone, and walked Elio out the door, to the elevator, and into the Uber that was waiting outside for them.

In the cab, Oliver wasn't sure how to help Elio, but he kept rubbing his back. Sometimes when he had panic attacks, he didn't want to be touched, but having Oliver with him seemed to help calm him down. During the ride down the West Side Highway, as Elio was starting to get his bearings back, he said, "Oliver, what are you doing? You have your LSAT class. Why are you coming to Brooklyn with me?"

"You needed me right now, and I wanted to be here to help. I can just go to another class, they'll have a make up class on Thursday night."

"So you'll miss pub quiz because of me? You didn't have to do this, Oliver."

Oliver smiled widely, and wrapped an arm around Elio. "I know, but I wanted to. In case you didn't realize, you're important to me. Who cares if I miss one lecture, or one quiz night? I’d rather know that you’re okay." Elio still felt immensely guilty. 

There was no traffic, and the cab pulled up at Elio's brownstone within 25 minutes. The two got out of the cab, Oliver reached into his backpack and found Elio's keys, and asked which key to use. Elio took the keys, fumbled with them nervously, and opened his apartment door.

He immediately went to his bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and grabbed a pill, dry swallowing it. Oliver sat on the couch waiting for Elio, who came back into the living room breathing heavily again.

"Another panic attack?" Oliver asked, looking confused. Elio collapsed on the couch next to Oliver and nodded.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Oliver asked.

"Go get my mom," Elio said. "Please? She should be in the house upstairs. Just ring the doorbell. I need my mother."

Oliver got up, went to the door, and Elio heard him go outside and up the stairs to his parents' front door. Oliver left his door open in his hurry, so Elio could hear everything.

"Hello? Who's there?" Annella said over the intercom.

"Uh...hi, Mrs. Perlman? This is Oliver, Elio's... Well we haven't actually talked about that yet... Elio asked me to come get you, he's having a panic attack and asked for you."

"Thank you, Oliver... I'll be down in a second."

Oliver came back inside and sat on the couch with Elio, taking his shoes off for him and letting Elio rest his feet on Oliver's lap. He began to massage Elio's feet, in an effort to calm him down.

A moment later, Annella and Sammy came barrelling through the door. Annella immediately began speaking to Elio in French, most of which Oliver didn't understand.

"Are you okay? What happened?" she asked, scooting onto the opposite of side of the couch as Oliver, with Elio putting his head on his mother's lap.

"I fell asleep at Oliver's when we were watching television, and when I woke up I realized I didn't have my pills and panicked. Oliver took me here in a taxi."

Annella ran her fingers through Elio's hair, and Sammy, who stood next to them, asked in English, "Did you take it when you got home?"

Elio responded in French. "Yes, but then I started having another panic attack and I don't know why." He took short, deep breaths, and held his mother's hand.

"Just breathe, darling. Count to ten. That always helps."

"Un, deux, trous, quatre, cinq..."

Annella calmly squeezed his hand back and said, "that's it, sweetheart."

As Elio was counting and trying to breathe, Oliver kept rubbing Elio's foot, unsure of what else he could do. Elio eventually sat up and said, "I think I'm better now."

"Do you want us to stay for a little while?" Sammy asked, "Or do you want some privacy?"

"No, you can stay. I didn't mean for you to meet like this, but, Maman, Papá, this is Oliver. Oliver, these are my parents."

"Mrs. Perlman, Dr. Perlman, strange circumstances, but nice to meet you," Oliver said, getting up and extending a hand to each of them.

"Please, call me Sammy," Elio's father said.

"And call me Annella, no need to formality."

Elio was suddenly very aware that he was still wearing Oliver's pajamas and that a bruise was starting to form on his neck. He noticed the same on Oliver's neck, which excited him somewhat. He did that to Oliver, in the heat of passion. His parents probably noticed, but likely didn't care.

His stomach started to rumble, and Annella noticed. "Dear, did you eat breakfast?"

Elio shook his head. "No, I had a panic attack and needed to get home as quickly as possible. I couldn't think about anything else. Oliver helped me get my shoes on and requested the Uber," he said. "He was really helpful."

Sammy rummaged around the kitchen. "What do you have to eat down here? Mafalda must have left you some food..."

"I've got some bread in the bread box, and Nutella in the cabinet," he said.

"Want me to put up toast?" Sammy offered.

Elio nodded. "Yes, please. Thank you, papá. Can you put up toast for Oliver, too? He didn't eat, either."

"Of course."

Oliver went over to the kitchen and said, "I can help you," looking for an outlet to plug the toaster in.

Sammy handed Oliver the loaf of bread, and Oliver made the toast while Sammy looked for the Nutella.

"Oliver, thank you for taking good care of Elio," Sammy said.

Oliver blushed and said, "I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing or not. I didn't want to make things worse."

"We can teach him the coping mechanisms Dr. Epstein taught us," Annella offered to Elio, in French. The two continued their conversation in French, mostly so Oliver wouldn’t understand.

"Maman! I don't really have panic attacks anymore. I haven't had one in almost a year, I don't know why I had two today."

Annella nodded. "Sweetheart, things are changing for you, things are new and different, in your life, with Oliver," she said quietly. "Maybe we should teach him, just in case."

Elio looked over and Sammy was spreading Nutella on each piece of toast that Oliver handed him. "Maybe you're right, he looked so scared, I think it would be better for him in the future. But he was able to get me here and get you."

"Do you think you'll be spending more evenings at his place? Maybe we should get Dr. Epstein to write you an additional prescription so you can leave a bottle there, just in case?"

"If I didn’t scare him off today, then… it’s likely. I think. That’s a good idea,” Elio said. Sammy and Oliver were having a conversation in the kitchen. “Maman, not that it makes any difference, but we… we didn’t sleep together. Not yet.”

Annella ruffled Elio’s hair. “It would have been okay if you did. You are an adult. Just remember to be safe.” Elio lowered his head and looked at his toes. “And I don’t think you’ve scared him off - he’s still here, isn’t he?” Sammy and Oliver started heading back to the living room with the Nutella-covered toast. “Also, you weren’t wrong about him being easy on the eyes - he’s handsome.”

“I know I’m handsome, that’s why your mother married me,” Sammy said in English, jokingly, as he and Oliver joined Elio and Annella.

Oliver handed Elio a plate with two pieces of toast, and sat next to him. Elio devoured his toast, surprised by how hungry he was.

“This is an interesting breakfast,” Oliver said. “I don’t usually think of Nutella as a breakfast food.”

“Oh, our Elio has it with his breakfast almost every day. He’s got a bit of a sweet tooth,” Annella said.

Elio smirked, swallowing the last of his toast. “What? We’re Italian. It reminds me of home.”

After Elio and Oliver finished their breakfast, Sammy and Annella got up to leave. “We should probably go upstairs and get ready for our day. Elio, are you feeling better?” Sammy asked.

“Much better. Thank you,” he said, resting his head affectionately on Oliver’s shoulder.

“It was nice meeting you,” Oliver said, waving at them. “Next time, if you don’t mind, can I talk to you about law school versus graduate school?”

“Of course - we’ll have Elio invite you over some time soon,” Sammy said.

Once the Perlmans were upstairs and had closed the door to Elio’s apartment, Elio squeezed Oliver’s hand. “Thank you… for everything today.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Elio,” Oliver said. “I want to be here for you, through the good and the bad, not that this was bad.”

“So… my panic attack didn’t scare you off?” Elio asked.

Oliver shook his head. “Of course it didn’t. I’m just happy you’re feeling better now.”

“I know something that would make me feel even better…” Elio said.

With an eyebrow raised, Oliver said, “Oh? And what would that be?”

“You.” Elio wrapped his arms around Oliver’s neck and kissed him softly.

They kissed for at least fifteen minutes, when Oliver pulled away. “As much as I’d love to spend my whole day kissing you, I need to do some work today. I brought my laptop, but I can head back home, too.”

“No, do some work here!” Elio said excitedly. “I don’t have to leave for Booklyn for another few hours. I have some homework to do, also. I should probably shower and change first, though,” he said, remembering that he was still in Oliver’s pajamas.

Elio gave Oliver his wifi password. After he showered, they sat quietly on their laptops, each of them working on a paper.

“Hey Oliver?” Elio asked, looking over in Oliver’s direction.

“Yes, Poodle?” Oliver said.

“I like when you call me that, it feels like it would be demeaning, but it’s actually really sweet.” Elio saved what he was working on and closed his laptop. “I heard what you said over the intercom to my parents, about how we hadn’t talked about what we are… is this the wrong time to do that?”

Oliver closed his laptop and put it on Elio’s coffee table. “Do you want to put a label on this? Define our relationship?”

“I… I think so… at the very least, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to refer to you as. The guy I’m seeing? The hot Columbia junior I met at the bookstore?”

“How would ‘ _boyfriend_ ’ sound to you?” Oliver asked.

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” Elio asked, a sly smile creeping on his face.

“I mean, I would very much like to be your boyfriend,” Oliver said, taking Elio’s hand in his own.

Elio’s sly smile turned into a silly grin. “I like the sound of that, boyfriend,” he said, sidling next to Oliver and kissing his cheek.

Oliver let go of Elio’s hand, instead wrapping his arm around him, holding him tight. “So I should tell my friends that I met my boyfriend’s family today?”

“And I can show my friends this hickey that my boyfriend gave me this morning,” Elio said, pointing at his neck. “So what does this mean?”

“I would like to be exclusive, if you want that. The thought of anyone else kissing you or touching you is making me feel very jealous and possessive,” Oliver said.

Elio looked up at Oliver and whispered. “I’m all yours. I only have eyes for you. I don’t want to see anyone else.”

“Good,” Oliver said, kissing Elio. “We should probably do more work before we each leave, though… I can’t get behind in my studies now, especially with the LSAT coming up.”

“Right… schoolwork…” Elio said, his homework the furthest thing from his mind right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to recap: Elio spent the night, he learned that Oliver takes PrEP (if you don't know about PrEP, I can edit this to explain more and/or answer your questions in a comment, but it's kind of a miracle drug) and more about being a responsible sexually active adult, Oliver witnessed Elio's panic attacks firsthand and didn't abandon him, Oliver met the Perlmans, and our beloved boys defined their relationship and are now boyfriends! All of this in one chapter, which amounts to only 3-4 hours of time in their lives!
> 
> Sorry for piling so much into this one chapter, but it'll set the stage for more of what's to come! But let's not forget that they are now officially boyfriends :)
> 
> You are all the best, and that is all.


	21. It's Still Raw

**Sunday, March 10, 2019-Tuesday, March 12, 2019**

Boyfriend. Oliver was his boyfriend. He was Oliver’s boyfriend. They were exclusively seeing each other. He, Elio, was someone’s boyfriend. He had a boyfriend. His boyfriend was Oliver. Elio kept replaying every iteration and combination in his head during his shift at Booklyn, because it all seemed unbelievable. How lucky was he?

His mother was right, that his panic attack was likely partially caused by all of the changes in his life - he’d have to talk about that with Dr. Epstein this week. He hadn’t actually had an appointment since he met Oliver, so she was unaware of how quickly his entire life had changed. She was probably going to make him come in for additional sessions in the coming weeks, especially because of the panic attack and the additional medication she was going to have to give him, but it was probably for the best. He couldn’t risk having another panic attack.

Marzia and Chiara unexpectedly invited themselves over for dinner, and they were already sitting in his parents’ living room when he got home from work. Though he didn’t know they were coming over, he wasn’t surprised to see them. He was being intentionally evasive and pithy in their group text throughout the day, though he did mention the panic attack, so they both decided that they would come over and make sure he was doing better.

The moment Elio walked into the living room, where his friends were sitting and chatting with his mother, the women grabbed him and sat him down on the couch. Elio hadn’t even bothered hiding the hickey on his neck, partially because it was too warm for a turtleneck or scarf, and partially because he didn’t care. Marzia and Chiara began examining Elio’s neck, and Annella began to laugh. “I should probably leave you kids alone…,” she said, chuckling as she exited the room.

“Oliver really did a number on you,” Marzia said, running her finger along the purple mark.

“You should see what I did to him,” he said with a smirk. “He’s probably having this same conversation with his friend Deb right now.”

Chiara opened her purse and took out a ziplock bag she had filled with a few makeup products. “You can’t go to school with that on your neck. I’m going to show you how to cover it.” She took out her own makeup compact so Elio could use it as a mirror.

“First, use this green color corrector, that will neutralize some of the purple and red in the bruise,” she said, squeezing a bit of green makeup from a tube and rubbing it onto Elio’s bruise.

Elio yelped. “Ow! Watch it! It’s still raw!”

“Sorry… but you did this to yourself…” Chiara said, looking for a pale colored foundation.

“Actually, my boyfriend did this to me,” Elio said.

Chiara and Marzia both looked at each other and said, “BOYFRIEND?!” at the same time. Elio nodded, with a big grin.

“You already DTR’d?” Marzia asked, giving Elio a hug. “I’m so happy for you!”

Chiara jokingly placed her hand over her heart and said, “Our Elio is growing up!”

“Quit it, I’ll stop telling you guys things about my life if you keep making fun of me,” Elio said.

Marzia blew a raspberry at him and said, “Fine, we only joke because we love you.”

After squeezing some foundation on her finger, Chiara rubbed it onto Elio’s bruise. “See? Now you can barely see it. I’ll leave these for you, give them back when the bruise goes away. Next time tell Oliver that if he’s going to leave a mark, that it should be on a part of your body you can more easily hide.” Elio recapped his night and morning for his friends, and Chiara gave further details about her hookup with Drew.

The girls stayed over for dinner, during which Chiara talked about the PG-related elements of her date. Drew was nice, and she’d go out with him again, but she wasn’t sure he was long-term boyfriend material. But it was nice to go out on a date with someone who listened to her and seemed interested in what she had to say.

After dinner, Annella asked if Marzia and Chiara wanted to stay and watch an episode of  _The Great British Bakeoff_ with them. “That sounds wonderful, Annella, but I should get back home, I need to finish my homework before school tomorrow. Can you thank Mafalda for dinner?” Marzia said.

“I should get going, too,” Chiara said. “I’ll see you in school tomorrow, Elio!”

Annella and Sammy sat on either side of Elio on the couch, and they waited for Mafalda and Manfredi so they could watch an episode together. Annella played with Elio’s hair, and said to him, “Looks like Chiara did a good job covering that love bite…”

“Maman!” Elio said, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“You shouldn’t feel ashamed about expressing love or desire. It’s a totally normal part of life, especially in a blossoming relationship,” Sammy said. “Oliver seemed very nice. He was able to keep a level head during a stressing time.”

Elio nodded. “He was very calm and quick on his feet. He was able to get me here in one piece, and when I told him I needed my mother, he immediately sprung to action.”

“You like him very much, don’t you,” Annella asked.

“I really do, Maman. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, female or male. He’s special, and I can’t believe he likes me, too. We talked things over after you came back up here, and we are officially boyfriends.” Annella kept playing with his hair. Elio didn’t care if he was too old to show affection toward his parents, he was their only child and they were close, and he loved when his mother played with his hair like this.

Sammy grinned widely and said, “Mazel tov! This is your first real romantic relationship, right?”

“Unless my girlfriend, Giovana, in  scuola dell'infanzia when I was five counts, then yes.”

“I remember Giovana! She was a really sweet girl! I wonder what happened to her…” Annella mused.

“She got pregnant and dropped out of school when she was sixteen. She has a daughter named Sofia. I follow Giovana on Instagram,” Elio said.

“Elly Belly, we are very happy for you. We just want you to be with someone who treats you well and loves you unconditionally,” Sammy said. “We’d love to get to know Oliver more, but if this morning is any indication, he’s a good person.”

“Thanks, papa,” Elio said.

“Who’s a good person?” Manfredi asked, as he slowly hobbled into the room, Mafalda helping him onto the couch.

“Elio’s boyfriend, Oliver,” Annella said.

“Oooh!” Mafalda squealed. “So the boy your mother said you went on a date with, he’s now your boyfriend?”

“Can we just watch television already?” Elio said, starting to get embarrassed.

Sammy fumbled for the remote and slowly began searching for the episode they were about to watch.

“Elio, can I ask you a stupid question?” Mafalda asked.

“Sure?”

Mafalda scratched her head, unsure of how to continue. “Are you… do this mean you’re… that you’re gay? Or something else?”

Elio sighed. “I honestly have no idea. I’ve liked women in the past, I like Oliver now, I guess that makes me bi? I’m still trying to figure that out. But I really like Oliver, and I want to be his boyfriend, so I suppose a label doesn’t really matter right now, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t, I just didn’t want to get the terminology wrong and offend you,” Mafalda said. Elio got up from his comfortable spot with his head on his mother’s lap, and moved to sit next to his aunt, giving her a warm hug.

“Zia Mafalda, I couldn’t possibly be offended by you. Thank you for trying.”

Mafalda kissed the top of Elio’s head and said, “I love you, Elio. I just want you to be happy.”

Elio nestled between his aunt and uncle while the family watched two episodes of _The Great British Bakeoff_. He thought about how lucky he was, that his family helped him through his panic attack, that they always made sure that he was feeling well, and that they were unconditionally accepting and loved him, no matter whom he was dating, no matter what he did.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

Elio’s appointment with Dr. Epstein went better than expected. He told her about his new relationship, about the panic attack, and they discussed how all of these sudden changes to his life could be overwhelming. Elio insisted that he wasn’t overwhelmed - that they were welcome changes and that he was the happiest he’d been in months. Dr. Epstein warned him to take things slowly, and not take on too much at once - whenever Elio had felt he was at an emotional high point in the past, he’d soon experience a large stumble. She agreed to write an additional prescription for more of his Lexapro, so he could leave it at Oliver’s apartment, but suggested that he come back in two weeks instead of his usual monthly appointments.

* * *

On Tuesday night, Elio was lying in bed doing some of his Italian reading, when his phone started to buzz. It was almost 11:30, and Oliver was calling. They’d never actually called each other on the phone before, they’d only ever texted.

Elio answered the phone. “Hi!” he said, hoping it was a good call, and not a pocket dial or something serious.

“Pooooodle!” he said, elongating the o’s. “I was going to text you, but I’m a little tipsy, and I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Are you drunk?” Elio asked, laughing.

“Maybe just a little bit. It was Javi’s 21st birthday. I got to the party late because I was finishing a paper, but I caught up with the drinks pretty quickly.”

“I can tell,” Elio said. “Must take a lot to get you drunk.”

“Usually. But I took a lot of shots in a row a couple of hours ago, and that seemed to do the trick. What are you doing?”

Elio closed his Italian book and put it on his nightstand. “I was just doing some reading for my Italian class before bed.”

“Say something in Italian for me. It was so sexy when you were speaking French to your mom. I knew you were talking about me, but I didn’t care.”

He said the first thing in Italian that came to him, something honest and sexual. He figured Oliver didn’t know enough Italian to understand it, especially in his inebriated state. “Non vedo l’ora di sentire le tue mani su di me.”

“What does that mean?” Oliver asked.

“It means… I can’t wait to feel your hands on me,” Elio said, quite glad Oliver wasn’t in the room to see him blushing.

“Oh fuck, that is really hot. I like how your voice gets a little deeper and more pronounced when you speak another language. Say something else, something dirty.”

“Mi ecciti così tanto.” Elio anticipated Oliver’s next question. “It means, you really turn me on.”

Oliver took a deep breath into the phone and sighed. “Everything you do turns me on, Elio. Your jawline. Your curly hair. The way you know everything about everything but aren’t smug about it. The graceful way you play the piano. Why are you in Brooklyn, and I’m all the way up here?”

“I can get in a cab, and be there in 25 minutes,” Elio offered. This was not how he saw his night going, but if he could spend even ten minutes with Oliver, it would be worth it.

“No, don’t be crazy, it’s already late. But, I have an idea. Can we FaceTime instead?”

“Sure, hold on,” Elio said. Soon, he was holding his phone a few inches from his face and watched as Oliver placed his phone down on his desk.

“Are you in bed right now?” Oliver asked, noticing the headboard and the posters above Elio’s head.

“I am… I wish you were here with me.”

“It’s probably a good thing I’m not there with you right now, because I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from grabbing those perfect slim hips and fucking your brains out.”

Oliver, until this point, had exerted self control - Elio could tell he’d been holding back when they kissed, and if this was what he was hiding, Elio couldn’t wait to find out more. “Let’s do that on Friday, then.” If Oliver could talk about his desires, then Elio was going to vocalize his own. “I want that so badly, Oliver.”

“So do I, but I shouldn’t… not yet…” Oliver said.

“Why not? Why do you keep holding back?”

“Elio, sex with another man… your first time, you shouldn’t just rush into it. I rushed into it my first time, and I regret it. I wish I had taken things much slower. I just want to make everything as pleasurable and as good for you as possible.”

“It will be. Whatever you think I’m not ready for, I am. I want to be with you.”

Oliver frowned and said, “There’s also the whole issue of testing. I haven’t slept with anyone since the last time I was tested, but that was in January. With PrEP, I probably didn’t contract HIV, and I used a condom, but we should probably wait until I’m tested again and out of the three month window before we sleep together.” April. Elio could wait until April. That was only a month away.

“So, what else can you do, until then?” Elio asked.

“Pretty much everything else. My God, there’s so much I want to do to you, do with you,” Oliver said.

“What would you do, if you were here with me, right now?” Elio asked, biting his lip.

“Well, I would take off your clothes, starting with that shirt… That’s my shirt, isn’t it?” Oliver asked, noticing Elio was wearing his Columbia t-shirt.

Elio placed his phone down for a moment, and took the shirt off. The only thing visible in the FaceTime chat were his bare shoulders.

“You should take your shirt off, too,” Elio suggested. Oliver placed the phone on the desk and propped it up so Elio could see most of his body. He unbuttoned his shirt, and threw it onto the floor. “Oh, fuck me,” Elio said, as he watched Oliver start to unbuckle his belt.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” he said, with a smirk. Elio quickly nodded, and slid his boxers off, not that Oliver could see from how he was holding his phone. Elio made sure to show Oliver the boxers before he threw them on the floor.

“I don’t have anywhere to put my phone so you can see all of me,” Elio said, sadly.

“That’s okay, I just want to see your handsome face. Knowing that you’re naked is making me so hard right now.”

Elio was feeling daring, and said, “Show me.”

Oliver nodded, with a grin, and unzipped his pants, kicking them away when they hit the ground. He was now standing in just his boxers, and slid those off, giving Elio a full-frontal view. Even on his small iPhone screen, Elio could see just how big Oliver’s erection was, and that made him even harder. He gripped himself with his right hand, and held his phone angled at his face with his left.

“Once you had me naked, what would you do to me?” Elio asked.

“I want to kiss your stomach. I know that sounds weird, but I’ve seen little slivers whenever you raise your hands above your head, and it drives me wild.”

Elio slowly began to tug himself, thinking about Oliver kissing his torso. “What should I do?” Elio asked.

“Just keep touching yourself.” Elio blushed, he wasn’t sure Oliver realized he had done that. “This is all about you. I’ll work my way down your body, kissing every inch of you, until I reach your cock. I will give you the best blow job you’ve ever had.”

“I’ve never received a blow job before,” Elio admitted, even though he’d already told Oliver this.

“Then, by default, this will be the best one you’ve ever had. But it will be good - I promise, I give a FANTASTIC blow job. You will not be disappointed. I just want to make you come.” Elio began jerking faster, imagining his cock in Oliver’s mouth. 

“Would you want me to give you a blow job, too?” Elio asked. Dirty talk was not exactly his forte.

“God yes, but not now.” Elio watched as Oliver gripped himself, and began tugging. This was quite possibly the hottest thing Elio had ever seen. “Right now, I want you on your back, legs spread for me, so I can fuck you.”

“I want you inside of me,” Elio said honestly. “I need you inside of me.”

Soon, Elio was surprised by the intensity with which he orgasmed. He moaned Oliver’s name loudly, not caring about how strange his face must have looked over FaceTime, contorted in pleasure.

“If that’s what you look and sound like when you come, I’m never going to last long,” Oliver said, yanking himself quicker. Elio watched as Oliver climaxed, saying Elio’s name as his seed covered his abdomen. Oliver smiled, grabbed a tissue and wiped himself off, then took the phone and sat on his bed, holding the phone outstretched from his face. “Wow,” he said, grinning at Elio.

“Wow indeed. I was not expecting to do that tonight,” Elio said.

“Neither was I. You didn’t feel like I was forcing you to do anything, did you?” he asked.

“No, of course not. I encouraged it. This was really hot. I can’t wait until we can do this for real.”

“Soon, I promise,” Oliver said. Elio stifled a yawn, which Oliver noticed. “We should probably both get to bed.”

“Probably. Good night, Oliver.”

“Good night, Poodle. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

They disconnected the conversation, and Elio put his phone down. He flopped his head onto the pillow, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. Tonight, it felt like his relationship with Oliver was taken to another level, and he couldn’t wait until their date on Friday night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this posted - I had a busy week, but I hope you enjoy the payoff in this chapter!
> 
> If you all didn't see, I heard Andre Aciman speak this week! I wrote about it on my [tumblr](https://noodlekugel.tumblr.com/post/182646114076/tonight-i-saw-andre-aciman-at-the-manhattan-jcc).


	22. Swept Under the Rug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, but I promise you'll like it!

**Thursday, March 14, 2019 - Saturday, March 16, 2019**

Like the last time he went to pub quiz with Oliver and his friends, Elio barely made it with time to spare, since he was running up to Columbia from his Booklyn shift in Greenpoint. The G train was delayed (because of course it was), and he had to run to make both of his connections. Without Oliver there as a crutch, Elio was going to have to work twice as hard at being fun and charming so his friends would like him. But maybe they already liked him, if they wanted him to come? Or maybe they just wanted free booze and knew Elio would be good for a few trivia answers.

He ran to the bar from the subway, out of breath when he walked through the doors. He found their group at the same table as last time. Howie noticed him from across the room and waved, and when Elio got to the table, Deb stood up and gave him a tight hug. “Elio!” she said excitedly, motioning for him to sit next to her.

Howie grabbed a glass and poured Elio a beer from the pitcher they’d already ordered. Their team was mostly the same as last time - it was Howie, Jill, Deb, Rob, Javier, Darnell, and this time, Soo Yun was there, whom he had met at the Shabbat dinner. Elio felt better that he’d already met and spoken to each person on the team, so no need for introductions.

“Oh, happy belated birthday, Javier!” Elio said across the table.

“Thanks! And, shh, we don’t want them to know I wasn’t always 21…” Javier said.

A waiter brought over a plate of cheese fries and another of wings, and Elio helped himself, having not eaten dinner in a rush to make it in time. He quickly devoured his food and went in for seconds. “I think you have one mode, and that’s hungry,” Howie said. Jill stifled a giggle.

“What do you mean by that?” Elio asked.

Howie laughed and grabbed a cheese fry. “You gave me quite the show in the living room over the weekend, the way you were basically eating Ollie’s face,” he said, laughing. Elio tucked a curl of hair behind his ear, feeling embarrassed.

“Sorry… I kind of got lost in the moment and forgot that you were still in the apartment…” Elio said. Deb squeezed his shoulder and started to laugh.

“He’s just messing with you. Howie definitely doesn’t care,” Jill said. “It was adorable, the way you fell asleep on each other. You are really cute together.”

“Thanks,” Elio said, still embarrassed.

Rob shouted from across the table. “Did you and Oliver finally bang it out? You could cut that tension with a knife!”

“You don’t have to answer that,” Deb whispered to him. “You're just jealous you don't have anyone to bang it out with. Their relationship is new, let them enjoy it.” Elio assumed that Oliver had told Deb most of what had happened between them. Maybe not the FaceTime sex, but that they were now exclusively seeing each other and referring to one another as boyfriend.

Rob jokingly stuck his tongue out at Deb, and returned to his conversation with Darnell.

Deb ran her finger along Elio’s neck, where his hickey had mostly faded, and he had covered with makeup. “You did a good job covering this up. Better than Oliver did. I took him to Sephora to get something to cover up his hickey. You did a number on him,” she added with a laugh.

“I told my friend Chiara you were probably helping Oliver when she came over to show me how to hide it with makeup,” Elio said. “Oliver and I may have both gotten a bit carried away…”

She reached over to the food and grabbed herself some fries. “I get it, Elio. I’ve been in your shoes. Oliver is the whole package.”

Elio wondered if she knew that he’d seen the whole package several times now. He blushed, thinking about Oliver naked. He was always thinking about Oliver naked these days. But she wasn’t wrong, Elio thought that Oliver was perfect and could do no wrong.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” she continued, still in a whispered tone “but he’s crazy about you. Oliver has basically not shut up about you since the day you two met - I’ve never seen him like this before.” Elio grinned - he knew that Oliver liked him, but this confirmed that what they had was unique and special. “I am going to say something, just the one time, and don’t ever tell him I said this. If you ever hurt him, I will torture and kill you, do you understand? My Dad’s also in Congress, and I’m sure between Senator Morgenstern and my Dad, the whole thing could get swept under the rug.”

Elio’s grin quickly changed to a frown, and he was unsure of what to say. “I… I… I would never hurt him. I like him SO much, Deb. I just want to be a good boyfriend,” Elio stammered.

She placed her hand on his back again, and said, “Good, so we’re on the same page. I was only half joking. Now we can move past this and be friends, because I’d like to get to know you better! If Oliver’s this crazy about you, I have a feeling that you and I are going to be fast friends.”

He took a deep breath, and mentally counted to ten, afraid he was going to have another panic attack. His heart stopped racing a bit, and Elio realized he was overreacting - Deb was just trying to protect Oliver. Chiara and Marzia would do the same. He slouched in his chair, and decided he was going to try to let loose, get to know Oliver’s friends better, and enjoy the evening. Deb smiled at him, and Howie handed him the answer sheet, on which he’d already written the team name, _Yer a Quizzard, Harry_. “Figured you’d might as well be our scribe, since you’ll be the one supplying most of the answers,” Howie said.

Howie was not wrong - Elio was the secret weapon their team had been missing, and they handily won the night, once again earning a tab that covered most of what they had already ordered. This time, Elio partook in the celebratory pitcher, mostly to wait for Oliver, whom Howie promised would be coming soon.

As Elio was finishing his second beer (he couldn’t get too drunk, he did have class in the morning and an hour ride back to Brooklyn), he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders. He nearly dropped his beer, but once the initial shock wore off, he knew those hands and that smell anywhere. Oliver was finally here!

Elio looked up and smiled at Oliver. “Hey,” he said softly, unsure of how affectionate he was allowed to be in front of a group like this. Oliver bent down and kissed Elio - a chaste kiss on the lips, but a kiss nonetheless. The entirety of _Yer a Quizzard, Harry_ whistled and cooed at them. “Here, sit,” Elio said, standing up and offering Oliver his seat.

“I think we can share,” Oliver said, swooping in and sitting in Elio’s seat. He then pulled Elio to sit on his lap. This wasn’t fair - how was Elio supposed to leave in a few minutes to head home? Oliver placed his chin on Elio’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist. Elio could definitely get used to this. He felt small in Oliver’s lap, but he also felt wanted and protected.

Oliver took Elio’s beer from his hands and took a sip before putting it back on the table. “I probably shouldn’t drink because I still have homework to do tonight, but my god, I need it after a long and boring LSAT review class.”

“When are you taking it?” Darnell asked.

“In three weeks. Only three more weeks, and then I’m done,” he said.

Oliver nuzzled into Elio, holding him close. “Is this okay, doing this, in public?” Elio whispered.

He sighed, still holding Elio tight. “Probably not, but I don’t care. I think we’ll be fine, for now. Probably only have a few more weeks of this, though, before I’ll be scrutinized more.”

Elio nodded. That was more than okay with him, he just wanted to enjoy the time they had together in public. He looked at the time and decided that he should probably be responsible and head home. Truth be told, the responsible thing would have been to go home after work, but Elio wanted to impress Oliver’s friends, and see him for the few minutes they’d have together.

“I should head back to Brooklyn,” Elio said sadly.

“I’ll walk you to the subway, I should get home and do more work, anyway,” Oliver said.

Elio said goodnight to everyone, and Oliver told Howie he’d see him at home.

On the walk to the subway, Oliver wrapped his arm around Elio, holding him close to his body. Elio instinctively leaned into him, secretly wishing he could just tear his clothing off on the street.

“Should we talk about what happened the other night?” Oliver asked.

Elio smiled. “I really enjoyed that. Watching you... was **really** hot, but I wish you were in the room with me, and not on my screen.”

“I’m not going to backpedal on what happened, because I enjoyed myself, too. I shouldn’t have done that, not yet, but I was a little drunk, and I think you can tell what happens to me when I think about you…”

Elio liked that Oliver was willing to talk things over, and admit to his mistakes, but it didn’t feel like a mistake to Elio. “We both wanted it. I would do it again. I have no regrets. Je n'ai pas de regrets.”

Oliver smirked when Elio began speaking in French, and took a deep breath. “Neither do I. I think we’re both on the same page.” They both nodded and smiled at each other. Whatever had transpired on their phone screens had given them a new sense of closeness, and while Elio still felt nervous excitement when he was around Oliver, even walking down the street had a new intimacy.

“We never decided where to go tomorrow, besides your apartment…” Oliver said.

“We could _just_ go to my apartment…” Elio offered.

Oliver smiled. “While I would love that, let’s go on a real date.”

“Fine…” Elio said, faking a frown. He thought about it for a moment, and said, “Can we go dancing? If I’m only going to have a few more weeks to be with you in public, I want to do that now, while I can…”

“I know you can dance well, but I’m not much of a dancer,” Oliver said.

“Yes you are! I saw you at the Shabbat dinner, and the way you moved to the music at the ice rink. I want to dance with you,” Elio said.

“Dancing it is. I leave finding a club you can get into, to you,” Oliver said.

When they arrived at the subway entrance, Oliver placed his hands on Elio’s hips, and Elio got on his tiptoes to kiss Oliver. They kissed for a few minutes, until they heard the train, so Oliver said, “Go, run and make the train. I’ll see you tomorrow night. We’ll iron out the details tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow!” he said, running as quickly as he could. He fumbled for his Metrocard, and just barely made the train. The fifteen minute wait until the next train would have been worth the extra few minutes of kissing Oliver, but he’d have all of tomorrow night.

* * *

After gym class on Friday, during which Elio told Marzia and Chiara his plans for the evening, he went back to the locker room to change.

“Hey Elio,” Drew said, tying his shoes next to him, “I just wanted to thank you for the advice with Chiara. We had a really good time on Saturday, and we’re going out again tomorrow.”

“Good! She said she had a nice time,” Elio said, remembering in vivid detail Chiara’s retelling of their sexcapades. “She’ll probably subject you to more foreign and indie films, though, if you start dating.”

“That’s okay, the movie was actually really good. I was surprised I liked a movie I had to read,” he said. Elio wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “How did things go with that Oliver guy? I saw your Insta post from the museum.”

“Really good,” he said, grinning. “We DTR’d. He is officially my boyfriend.”

“Congrats, bro! That’s exciting!” Drew said. He seemed genuinely happy for Elio, and it felt strange, because they weren’t friends, and Elio had barely talked to or thought about Drew through most of school. He’d always been in his own little bubble with Marzia and Chiara, but maybe the other students in his school were better than he thought they were? Or, maybe Drew was just nice?

“Thanks,” Elio said shyly. “We’re going dancing at a club tonight. I just need to figure out where to go, that will take my fake, or that lets you in if you’re at least 18…”

“Oh, right, you’re already 18,” Drew said. “What about that place in Boerum Hill? The one in the old Presbyterian church, with the stained glass windows? My brother’s gone there with his friends, he’s not 21 yet…”

Elio scrunched his nose - he wasn’t sure what Drew was talking about. He grabbed his phone to look it up. “Is it a gay bar?” Elio asked.

“Nah, I don’t think so. Just a regular club. Most of his friends aren’t gay,” Drew said. He took out his phone and a few moments later, he said, “Justin says you can get in at 18, but they strictly enforce 21 plus for drinking. If you want to drink, bring a flask.” Chiara had actually bought the tre amici matching engraved flasks last year for Chanukah/Christmas for them to sneak into Winter Formal, so he was all set to go on that regard.

Elio texted Oliver a link to the website of the club and asked if it looked okay. Oliver quickly responded that it looked great.

* * *

Oliver met Elio at his place at 7, to drop off his bag, which contained a change of clothes, his textbooks, and his laptop. “I figured if I wind up spending most of the day here tomorrow, at least I have my school books with me,” he admitted, after Elio asked why the bag was so heavy.

Elio was excited that Oliver thought he might be spending a bulk of the weekend at his place. He wanted to spend all of his time with Oliver, and the idea that he maybe felt the same way made him nervous and excited about what was to come.

They sat on the couch, and before either of them could get a word in, Elio grabbed the collar of Oliver’s shirt, pulling him close so they could kiss. He climbed onto Oliver’s lap, and kissed him longingly. While they were kissing, Elio placed his hand under Oliver’s shirt and on his chest. Oliver very gently pushed Elio back, and said, “Elio, slow down, we’ve got all night, we haven’t even gone out yet.”

“I know, I just really like kissing you, is all…” Elio said, feeling embarrassed by how much he wanted Oliver. He wanted to spend time with Oliver, but he always wanted to kiss him, wanted to touch him, wanted to be with him, wanted to feel his naked body pressed against his own, and a tiny guilt gnawed away because he felt like he was using Oliver to satisfy his primal urges.

“Why don’t we go head out for dinner?” Oliver suggested, adjusting himself after Elio sat back on the couch.

“Sure, I just need… a couple of minutes,” Elio said, taking a deep breath.

After they collected themselves, they walked to the Ethiopian restaurant that Elio had picked out. They shared a meat platter and a vegetarian platter, sampling the doro wat (spiced chicken), the yebeg tibs (diced lamb), shiro (chickpeas), gomen (collard greens) and more.

Oliver tore off a big piece of injera and dipped it in some red lentils, quickly devouring the spicy legumes. “Ethiopian food is so good,” he said.

“I love that we’re expected to eat the meal with our hands,” Elio said. He was going to make a lewd joke, but refrained.

“I talked to my Dad today, he’s officially going to announce his candidacy in three weeks, so I have to go to Nashville for a few days so I can be at the press conference with him.”

Elio swallowed some injera and asked, “Are you going to have to leave a lot, to campaign with him?”

“Some weekends, probably. But Hannah and I are students, so we won’t be expected to be at most events. I’ll probably have to do some things this summer. I’m interning at Senator Schumer’s New York office this summer, so I assume they’ll give me time off when I need it.”

It occurred to Elio that they hadn’t actually discussed their summer plans. “I’ll be in Italy at my parents’ villa for most of the summer…”

“We’ll just have to spend more time on FaceTime, then,” Oliver said. This cheered Elio up, thinking about their potential two month separation. This also gave Elio a feeling of hope, that Oliver anticipated still being together by summer.

After dinner, since it was relatively warm out, and they didn’t want to get to the club too early, Elio took Oliver for a walk around the neighborhood, where they stopped at Ample Hills Creamery for some ice cream. They ate their cones while walking hand in hand, and Elio happily licked away at his Snap Mallow Pop.

“You’ve got a little something on your face,” Oliver said. Before Elio could wipe it away, Oliver bent down and licked the ice cream off of Elio’s nose, which sent Elio into fits of giggles.

They slowly made their way around the small South Brooklyn neighborhoods. Elio pointed out various landmarks or stores and restaurants that he liked. “Chiara’s brother, Paul, got kicked out of that restaurant for smoking pot in the bathroom when he was in high school,” Elio said, pointing at an Italian restaurant. “And this place has really good pizza.”

“Do you think you would live in this neighborhood after college?” Oliver asked, looking around at all of the brownstones.

“I mean, maybe? I’ve still got a while to think about that. Once I got over the shock of being in this country and learned to appreciate New York, I liked living in Brooklyn. Yeah, I think I would live here when I’m older. Especially if my parents give me the house if they ever move back to Italy.”

“Are they planning on moving back?” Oliver asked.

“They’ve talked about maybe going back after they retire, but I think they like living in New York too much to ever leave permanently. Right now, we do summers and Christmas week at the villa, and spend the rest of our time at the brownstone. They have a handy man, Anchise, who looks after the villa when we’re not there and takes care of my mom’s garden. I think my Uncle Manfredi would jump at the chance to move back, but he and my Aunt Mafalda stay here because we’re here. They’re dual citizens now, like I am,” Elio said. “It’s a good time to have that EU passport.”

“I’m jealous! I’d need a visa if I wanted to go move to Europe to live or study for a few years. I’ve thought about it sometimes,” Oliver said.

“So have I, but I think I want to do all of my education here,” Elio said. “Though my mom did go to the Sorbonne and got her masters at Oxford.”

* * *

Once they reached the dance club, Oliver was given a wristband, but the bouncer drew a large “X” on Elio’s hands, indicating that he was underage and could not purchase alcohol. “Hold out your hands,” Oliver said, taking out his phone to take a picture, documenting what he apparently found hilarious.

“It’s not that funny,” Elio said.

Oliver grabbed Elio’s hand, and they walked into the club, which was already crowded, with the music blasting over the speakers. After checking their coats, they walked to the bar so Oliver could get himself a cocktail, and got a soda for Elio. Once he had his soda, Elio surreptitiously took out the flask and poured some whiskey into it.

“I would have just bought two sodas if I had known you brought your own alcohol!” Oliver said to Elio, who thought Oliver was going to chastise him for bringing the flask.

They walked to the center of the dance floor, and took large swigs of their drinks before they started dancing to the Ariana Grande song playing over the speakers. Elio pressed his body close to Oliver’s, shaking his body to the rhythm. As Oliver finished his drink, Elio noticed his body loosening up, and he started to get more comfortable with dancing.

Once they’d both gotten rid of their cups, Elio fished the flask from his pocket and passed it to Oliver. They each drank some of the whiskey, and Elio hid the flask once more. Oliver wrapped his arms around Elio’s hips, pulling him in close, and they grinded to the music. The floor was crowded, so they could remain relatively anonymous, but Elio noticed a few women pointing them out to their friends. He suddenly felt possessive of Oliver, and wanted everyone to know that he was taken. Elio reached up and kissed Oliver, who very happily reciprocated the kiss. “Come with me,” Elio shouted, grabbing Oliver’s hand and leading him off of the dance floor.

“Where are we going?” Oliver asked.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling Oliver into a wide hallway leading to the bathrooms. Oliver caught Elio’s drift, and surprised him by pushing him against the wall to kiss him. As forceful as Elio usually was with Oliver, he realized he quite enjoyed being dominated by him. He wasn’t used to being passive or submissive, but when Oliver let go like this, Elio let Oliver take the lead. He wrapped his leg around Oliver’s, and ran his hands up and down Oliver’s back. Seeing public displays of affection often made Elio feel uncomfortable, but in that moment, he did not care who walked by and saw them making out against the wall. He needed this, and was not willing to stop unless Oliver wanted to.

When they stopped kissing to catch their breath, Elio pulled out the flask, and they each took another guzzle, Elio probably consuming twice the amount Oliver did. “Let’s go dance some more,” Elio suggested, taking Oliver back to the dance floor. The kissing didn’t seem to sate them, and instead, left them statically charged, their attraction and desire for one another clearly evident to anyone within their line of sight. For the next several hours, they danced, grinded against each other, kissed, touched, and drank more whiskey. This was one of the most fun nights that Elio had ever had.

“Are you ready to leave?” Elio asked Oliver, as both of them were dripping in sweat. Oliver smirked and nodded, and held Elio’s hand as they waited in the coat check line.

“Do you want to walk back to your place, or take a cab?” Oliver asked.

Elio stumbled as they walked out of the club. Oliver placed his hand on Elio’s back to keep him upright. “Cab. Definitely a cab. It means we’ll be back in my apartment sooner.” He took out his phone and requested an Uber, which arrived within two minutes. In the backseat, Elio wanted to resume making out with Oliver, but they both silently decided that they should wait until they were back at Elio’s place. Instead, they held hands, lacing their fingers, anticipating the moments until they were inside and alone.

Once they were in the apartment, Elio locked the door behind them, and immediately leapt into Oliver’s arms. “Bedroom, let’s go to your bedroom,” Oliver said, and Elio nodded, leading Oliver into his room and closing the door.

They immediately shed their coats and hastily kicked off their shoes. Elio placed the flask on his desk. Oliver sat at the edge of the bed, and Elio climbed onto his lap, tightly wrapping his arms around him and kissing him. Elio raised his hands over his head and began struggling to take his shirt off, so Oliver pulled it over his head for him, kissing his exposed stomach. When he felt Oliver’s lips on his skin, Elio sighed loudly, every hair on his body standing on edge, every nerve tingling in anticipation.

Oliver pulled off his own shirt, and eventually, pressed himself to Elio, their bare chests touching as they kissed. Elio reached down and began unbuckling Oliver’s belt when he felt Oliver’s hardness pressing against him. “Is this okay?” Elio asked. “I’m finding my jeans way too constricting right now, I imagine it’s even worse for you.”

Instead of responding, Oliver helped unbuckle his belt and pulled his pants off, keeping his boxer shorts on. While Oliver was doing this, Elio crawled backward on the bed, resting his head on the pillow. Oliver moved closer to Elio, and began unbuttoning his jeans. “Is this okay with you?” he asked, looking for consent to continue. Elio made a mental note about how sexy it was when Oliver asked for consent - it let him know what Oliver was desiring and it made him enjoy everything that much more.

“Yes, please,” he said, arching his hips up so Oliver could slide his pants off. Oliver climbed on top of Elio and resumed kissing him. Now that there was no fabric between them besides their boxer shorts, Elio laid still for a moment, taking in the newness of all of Oliver touching all of him. He slowly began exploring every inch of Oliver with his hands, running his fingers across every taut muscle, every patch of body hair. When they kissed, he usually ran his fingers through Oliver’s hair, pressing his fingers into his scalp, but he resisted the urge to do so now, as there was so much of Oliver to be discovered.

Elio and Oliver eventually switched positions, with Oliver on his back. He began kissing Oliver’s neck and shoulder, licking and leaving a trail of kisses down his arms. “What are you doing?” Oliver asked with a laugh, as Elio had placed one of Oliver’s fingers in his mouth.

“I want to kiss and taste every inch of you,” he said. “I can stop if this is weird.” He realized this was probably strange, but he didn’t care. He needed to mentally map all of Oliver’s body, so on the day that Oliver realized his mistake of being with Elio and decided to leave him, he would be able to return to this memory and remember all of Oliver as a sensory experience.

“No, don’t stop,” Oliver groaned. “This is sexy.” Elio did not need to be told twice. He worked on both of his arms, eventually returning to Oliver’s torso. Elio smirked when Oliver moaned while Elio licked his nipple. He kissed Oliver’s stomach, his abdomen, and for the time being, skipped over his boxer shorts. After sucking each of Oliver’s toes, he kissed up Oliver’s leg and lingered on his thigh. Daringly, he placed his hand once more on Oliver’s crotch, remembering the rejection the first time he tried this in the park. Oliver just closed his eyes and sighed loudly, so Elio took this as a positive sign. He slowly slid Oliver’s boxers down slightly, kissing each piece of newly exposed skin.

When Elio felt like he was the one being teased more than Oliver, he pulled Oliver’s boxers down to his knees, freeing his erection. He made eye contact with Oliver, making sure this was fine with him, and then Elio took a moment to admire Oliver’s cock. He’d seen other men naked before, mostly in the locker room at school or on the beach in Italy, but never like this. No one looked like this. Oliver was throbbing in anticipation, and it was because of Elio, which made Elio’s own cock twitch in excitement. This was it, his chance to do to Oliver what he’d watched Oliver do over FaceTime earlier in the week. He gripped Oliver tightly, and continued kissing every inch of skin he could. He licked down his shaft, and just as he was about to take him in his mouth, Oliver said, “Elio, Elio, stop for a second.”

“What’s wrong?” he said, still holding Oliver’s hardness in his hand. “Am I doing this wrong?”

“No, you are doing everything right. Fuck, this is sexy, and I want you so badly. I… I am definitely going to regret saying this… but maybe we should wait until we’re sober… to do this.”

“I’m not that drunk, I’m just tipsy at this point,” Elio said. “I want to do this. I want to make you come, the way you did the other night.”

Oliver took a deep breath. “I know, but… I just think we should be completely sober, the first time we do something like this. As much as I want this… let’s just kiss, for now…” Elio frowned, but understood Oliver’s perspective. He pulled Oliver’s boxers back up, and crawled next to him, placing his hand on his cheek.

“I think you’re right,” Elio said, gently pressing his lips to Oliver’s. “I do really like kissing you, too.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Oliver said, hungrily kissing Elio, holding him close as they kissed.

Some time later, Elio could feel his eyes drooping closed, and he momentarily pulled away from kissing Oliver to yawn. “Should we get some sleep?” Oliver asked.

Elio nodded, and slipped out of bed. “I got you a toothbrush, it’s the green one in the toothbrush holder…” he said.

Once they were ready for bed, Oliver noticed that Elio had just climbed into bed in his boxer shorts. “I guess I didn’t need to bring pajamas with me,” he said.

“Do you want to put on pajamas? It’s not that cold, and I was hoping we could just keep each other warm…” Elio said.

Oliver climbed into bed in just his boxers, and pulled the blanket over them. “C’mere, Poodle,” he said, pulling Elio closer to him, so he could hold him in a spooning position while they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long - I'm probably only going to be able to post about one chapter a week of each of my stories for the next few months until things get less busy in my life. But I have not forgotten about them, I promise!
> 
> Thank you to suspiciouspanda for suggesting that Oliver's friends request Elio to replace Oliver at trivia - it worked really well with the story, and I obviously liked that idea enough to steal it :D
> 
> Thank you to everyone who keeps reading and/or commenting. You're the best.
> 
> I think you'll want to stay tuned for the next few chapters. They're going to be steamy and fun.


	23. Don't You Look Smug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were disappointed by the last chapter, this one might cheer you up a bit...

**Saturday, March 16, 2019**

Elio opened his eyes and woke up to a hand squeezing his middle tightly. Oliver had slept over last night, and they were still spooning. Oliver’s chest was pressed against Elio’s back, and Elio never wanted to leave this position. “You awake?” Elio whispered. The only response was a small snore from Oliver. He took the opportunity to wriggle out of bed and once again, go brush his teeth and use the bathroom before Oliver woke up. He was not taking any chances with morning breath. He laughed when he realized this was basically straight out of an episode of _The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel_ that he’d watched with his mother last year, that Midge always woke up before Joel to primp so he never saw her looking imperfect.

He got back into bed and pulled Oliver’s arm around him once again. “You’re back,” Oliver whispered.

“I thought you were asleep,” Elio said.

“Mmm, I was, but then I went to pull you closer and you weren’t there,” Oliver said.

“I’m here now. Hold me.” Oliver held Elio in a loving embrace as they resumed their comfortable spooning position. Elio could feel Oliver’s morning erection pressing against him (or maybe it was just a normal one?). He wanted to resume the activities from last night - Oliver did say that he just wanted to wait until they were sober - but he also didn’t want to push him.

Oliver buried his face in Elio’s unruly mop of curls, before gently running his fingers down Elio’s arm. He began kissing Elio’s neck and shoulder. “Mmm, this is nice,” Elio said, closing his eyes. Oliver began running his hand down Elio’s bare chest as he held him close, each touch eliciting soft noises from Elio.

As he pressed himself against Elio’s back, Oliver eventually slid his hand into the front of Elio’s boxers, causing Elio to immediately grow hard. “Is this okay?” Oliver whispered into Elio’s ear, nuzzling into his neck.

“Yes, yes, of course, yes,” Elio stammered excitedly. He pulled his boxers down past his knees, making it easier for Oliver to grip his cock. Oliver slowly began stroking Elio, as he kissed his neck and arm. Elio wanted to lie on his back or other side, so he could make eye contact with Oliver, but he was afraid that if he changed positions, Oliver would change his mind, so he stayed on his side, being spooned by Oliver.

Elio groaned as Oliver teasingly ran his hand up and down his shaft. He had done this with Marzia, but it had never been like this - the butterflies in his stomach, the nervous knot in his throat. “Oliver…” Elio moaned, as Oliver’s ministrations quickened. Before he knew it, without much time to warn Oliver, he climaxed, his eyes rolling backward as he said Oliver’s name one last time. After he took a deep breath to calm his nerves, Elio reached over to his nightstand and grabbed a tissue to wipe off his abdomen.

When he stood up to throw away the tissue, he gave Oliver the briefest glimpse of his rear before pulling his boxers back up to walk across the room. Elio then climbed back into bed, and placed his head on Oliver’s shoulder. He began curling his fingers into Oliver’s chest hair, humming happily to himself.

“Good morning,” Oliver said, with a grin.

“I’d say this qualifies as a fantastic morning,” Elio said, unable to stop smiling. He slowly inched his hand down Oliver’s torso, and looped a finger in the waistband of Oliver’s boxers. “Can I do this now?” he asked.

“Oh my God, yes,” Oliver said, pulling off his own boxer shorts and kicking them off the bed. Elio wished he hadn’t put his own boxers back on, but he had other things on his mind and plate right now.  He kept his head on Oliver’s chest, listening to Oliver’s heart rate speed up once Elio gripped his cock.

Elio had plenty of practice on himself, but with Oliver, this was different. He made sure to start gently, unsure of how Oliver liked things - he had an inkling that he’d like it rough, but he wasn’t going to start there. “Am I doing this right?” Elio asked, wanting to make sure that things were as good as possible for Oliver.

Oliver nodded and said, “This feels amazing, but you can be a little quicker or rougher if you want to. You’re not going to break me.” Before he could say anything else, Elio gripped him tighter and began jerking him at a slightly faster pace. “Oh, Elio… yes,” Oliver added. He turned his head to face Elio while he stayed on his back, and pulled Elio’s head close to his, so they could kiss.

Elio slowly pulled away from the kiss and released his grip temporarily, to which Oliver sadly groaned. Instead, Elio sat up and faced Oliver, so he could reposition himself and have a more agile grip. He also did not want to tell Oliver that it was much easier to watch both Oliver’s reactions and his cock from this angle.

“Ooooh, I’m close,” Oliver said. Elio bit his lip in anticipation, and began speeding up, thinking about what he likes when he’s on the brink of orgasm, and Oliver responded positively to this. Soon, Oliver peaked, shouting, “Oh, Elio. Fuck!”

As he crawled to lie next to Oliver once more, he grabbed a tissue and handed it to Oliver, smirking at him. He took a good look at Oliver’s stomach, feeling quite proud of himself.

“Wow,” Oliver said while he wiped off his stomach and looked at Elio. “Don’t you look smug?”

“What? I’m just really happy,” he said. Oliver threw away his tissue and joined Elio in the bed.

Elio placed his head on Oliver’s chest, and Oliver held Elio close. “What’s the plan for the morning, Poodle?” he asked.

“We can just never get out of this bed,” he said, running his fingers down Oliver’s arm.

“As enticing as that sounds, I have a lot of work to do, and that whole law school entrance test to study for.

“Shower, then breakfast, then we can do homework on the couch?” Elio said. “I’ve got Nutella toast, or… Nutella toast.”

“How about some Nutella toast?” Oliver joked. They snuggled some more, resisting their responsibilities, when Oliver’s phone started buzzing on the nightstand. He took a look at the caller ID. “It’s my mom, this could be a while. Why don’t you shower and I’ll meet you in the living room when I’m off the phone?”

“Aww, but I wanted to shower with you!”

“Next time? Where did my boxers go… Answering the phone naked still feels awkward…” Elio got off of the bed and found Oliver’s boxer shorts on the floor and tossed them to him.

“Hello? Hey mom… No, I’m up, you didn’t wake me… I’m good! How are you… Mostly writing a paper and practicing for the LSAT…”

Elio went into his closet and drawers to grab himself a change of clothes for the day, and left the room to give Oliver some privacy. He took the stairs to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower.

After he showered, he went into the kitchen to make some coffee and put up toast. Oliver was sitting on the couch, still on the phone.

“Hold on… I just got the flight confirmation now, thanks… Yes, actually, there is someone special, I’m surprised Hannah didn’t tell you… yes, he knows about Dad… yes, he knows we have to keep things quiet, he understands… I’m not just ‘seeing him,’ he’s my boyfriend…” Oliver looked over at Elio and smiled. “What do you want to know about him? His name is Elio… His last name is Perlman. Yes, he’s Jewish... he’s studying music, he’s from Italy but lives here now… he’s got really nice dark curly hair and piercing eyes… hold on, I’ll text you a selfie we took at the Whitney last weekend… yes, I agree, he’s very handsome… Oh, he’s really great, mom, I think you’ll really like him… Well, when will you be in New York next? You can meet him then… yes, he comes from a good, upstanding family, I met his parents last week, his dad is a classics professor at NYU.”

Oliver wanted Elio to meet his parents! Elio sensed that Oliver was just as committed and serious about this as he was. They’d only been together a couple of weeks, but Elio could feel how strong their connection was, and thought Oliver was also seeing this as having long-term potential. He smiled as he spread Nutella on two slices of toast and brought it over to Oliver with a mug of coffee.

“Thanks,” Oliver mouthed, and took a bite of the toast.

“Hey mom? Can I talk to you later? I need to eat breakfast and get cracking on my schoolwork for the day… I love you, too… We’ll talk soon.” Oliver put his phone on the table and Elio sat down next to him. “Sorry that took so long.”

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to talk to your mother. I take it you don’t speak that often?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, not really. We used to, but not recently. They’ve been so busy planning the campaign and working, in both Nashville and DC, I get an occasional text, but I haven’t actually spoken to her on the phone in a few weeks. I did talk to my Dad earlier in the week, but it was all business.”

“I’m sorry, that sounds tough,” Elio said, placing his hand on top of Oliver’s. “I see my family every day, I don’t know what it’s like to not be around them constantly.”

They finished their breakfast, and after Oliver showered, they spent the morning and early afternoon cuddling on the couch, reading and doing homework. And occasionally making out. Oliver had to keep reminding Elio that they both wanted to ace their classes, and they couldn’t get too distracted from school.

Elio ordered Chinese food lunch specials for them to eat for lunch while they worked. After Oliver went home to make his dinner plans with Rob and Darnell (he had offered for Elio to join, but he still had work to do, and had to be at Booklyn for the morning shift), Elio sat at his piano and practiced his exercises before playing Schubert’s _Serenade_ , a romantic piece that made him think of Oliver. His mind kept drifting to how he felt earlier that morning, when he and Oliver had fooled around. Now that he’d had a taste of what it was like to be with Oliver, he needed more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave off the last chapter like that... but I had the coda to their date planned in this chapter all along. I'm glad you're all still so invested in this story <3 I appreciate all of the feedback and the love.


	24. You're My Muse

**Monday, March 18, 2019 - Thursday, March 21, 2019**

After school, Elio and Marzia were lying on Marzia’s bed in her mother’s East Village apartment. “So, are you going to leave me hanging about your date this weekend?” she asked.

Elio had a few hours to kill before his shift at Booklyn and before Marzia left for her volunteer shift at NYU’s main hospital. “We went on a date on Friday. It was nice.”

“Why are you being coy with me, Perlman? We tell each other everything? SPILLLLLLLL!”

“We went on a date on Friday, and he went home on Saturday afternoon.”

Marzia hit Elio in the head with a pillow. “Come on, I need details. You would at least tell me if you had sex, right?”

“Yes, I’d tell you if we had sex,” Elio said, taking an accent pillow and gently hitting Marzia with the pillow. “Fine. We went for Ethiopian food. We ordered the meat and the vegetable dish. The green lentils were less spicy than usual. Oliver had to order extra injera because he uses too much at a time and doesn’t know how to portion it properly.”

“Ughhh, I didn’t mean a play-by-play of every second. Just the good parts.”

Elio smiled, turned on his side to face Marzia, and put his head on her shoulder. “But everything’s a good part when I’m with him.”

Marzia softly ruffled Elio’s hair and wrapped an arm around him. “You’ve got it bad.”

“I like him so much. It’s like… my life was nice, it was fine, I love you and Kiki, and my family is the best, but… since I’ve met him, everything is just a little brighter, everything just kind of makes sense now. I can’t really explain. Maybe it’s just the clarity from knowing that I like guys, too? Like a weight I didn’t realize I was carrying was lifted off of my shoulders?”

“Maybe, but I think it has to do specifically with Oliver. He makes you happy,” Marzia said.

“So happy. He wants to wait to have sex, though, until he gets a test three months after his last one, to make sure he’s clean.”

“That’s responsible of him. I wish more guys were that thoughtful. Maybe Brooklyn Prep wouldn’t have had that chlamydia outbreak a couple of years ago if people regularly got tested. When is he going to get tested?”

“Next few weeks. He said we can do other things, though. We were drunk on Friday night, and I almost…” he blushed, and realized this was Marzia, he could tell her anything. “I almost sucked his dick, but he stopped me, and told me that we should wait until we were sober. I couldn’t tell which of us wanted it more.”

“You, probably,” Marzia said, with a chuckle. “You’re always horny.”

“Hey, so are you. But it’s not just that. When I’m with him, I can’t control myself. It’s like I need him to function.”

“Like I said. Horny.”

“I mean, yeah.”

Marzia turned to face Elio. “So, did you wait until you were sober?”

“I’m still waiting for that, but...we did use our hands in the morning.”

“ELIO!” Marzia screamed, making Elio’s ears ring. “You really know how to bury the lede!”

He grinned widely, showing his slightly crooked but pearly white teeth. “Sorry! Sometimes I want to keep some things to myself for just a little while…”

“How was it? Was it good? Were you nervous, with him seeing you naked?”

“It was great. He is SO hot, Martz. I think I was too horny to be nervous… but, come to think of it, I just realized that he didn’t actually see me naked. Still hasn’t, actually.”

“What? But I thought you said he…” Marzia very maturely mimed jerking off with her hands.

Elio nodded and said, “He did, but we were spooning, so I was on my side, and I don’t think he ever actually saw me from the waist down…”

Marzia rolled onto her stomach and began hitting the pillow with her hand in fits of laughter.

“Stop it! It’s not funny!” Elio grabbed a pillow and once again hit Marzia with it.

“Yes it is!”

“I guess I just need to rectify that. Let me text him now. He’s on spring break this week and was going to have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Elio took out his phone and saw that he already had a few texts from Oliver.

 

“MARZIA! Oh my god! I can’t believe you did that!” Elio said, burying his face in the pillow.

“What? It was easy to wrestle your phone out of your hands, and now you’ve got a sex date on Friday thanks to me. I just made things a little bit easier for you. Maybe this time he’ll actually see you naked.”

* * *

On Tuesday evening, as Elio was eating dinner with his family, he kept idly looking at his phone to see if Oliver had texted. He’d gotten into the habit of doing that every few minutes for the past few weeks, and it was difficult to break.

“Everything okay, Elly Belly?” Sammy asked.

“Yeah, everything is great,” Elio said, and took a bite of the salmon that Mafalda had cooked.

“Are you looking to see if Oliver texted?” Annella asked.

Elio nodded. “Yeah, I’m waiting to hear back from him about this weekend. His grandmother fell, so he’s spending the week taking care of her since he’s on spring break and had been planning on sticking around here to study while campus was quiet.”

“Oh no! Is she okay?” Mafalda asked.

“Yeah, he said she’s fine. He took her to the doctor for a scan today, she’s just bruised. Nothing was broken or fractured, but she still needs help while she can’t walk well.”

“Well, he seems like a good person. Between helping you through your panic attack, and helping his injured grandmother, I approve. I like what I’ve read about his family, too,” Sammy said.

“Have you been stalking Oliver’s family online?” Elio asked.

Annella nodded. “Of course we did. I already knew a little bit about his father, but thanks to the internet, I can tell you his dad’s favorite color, his stance on every possible political issue, that he plays the guitar pretty terribly, and his net worth.”

“Maman! Please don’t tell Oliver that you did that!”

“Oh, are we seeing him again soon?” Sammy asked.

“We’d love to meet him,” Mafalda said, and Manfredi nodded in agreement.

“I can ask him to come over in a few weeks. I don’t want him to get nervous about something else before he takes the LSATs,” Elio mused.

Annela smiled, and offered, “Why don’t you ask him to come over the first night of Passover? Zia Mafalda and I can make a roast and matzah ball soup, and he and your father can have that chat you had asked about.”

“Marvelous idea!” Sammy exclaimed.

Elio mulled it over, and decided he liked this plan. “Sounds good, I’ll mention it to him when he gets back.”

“Just make sure you don’t let your schoolwork slide because you have a new beau,” Sammy said. “Your junior year is the most important for your college applications.”

“Papa, ‘a new beau’? How old are you? Oliver is not getting in the way of school. And it would be my senior year if Brooklyn Prep hadn’t insisted they needed even more of your money…”

“Elio, let’s not go through this again? We all agreed that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for you to spend one more year at Brooklyn Prep, getting ready for university. And you’ll start university with enough credits to minor in both music and art,” Annella chided. “It’s supposed to give you more time to focus on your music and art.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Elio said, groaning loudly. 

* * *

Maybe his mother was right, though. He’d been practicing piano, but he hadn’t spent much time over the past month transcribing or composing or doing anything artistic that wasn’t required for his classes. After dinner, he took out his sketchbook and supplies, and began to draw. He closed his eyes for a moment, looking for inspiration. All he could think of was Oliver, naked, in his bed, hard in his hand. At first, he thought that it was a hopeless cause, nothing was going to strike today. Just as he was about to put away his pencils, he realized that Oliver’s constant presence in his mind wasn’t such a bad thing. Oliver could be his muse. He’d gotten an A on his drawings of Oliver from last month, more in the series couldn’t hurt.

Over the next two nights, he drew and painted a few images of Oliver or abstract representations of his feelings, but he poured his heart into these pictures. Marzia told Elio that he wore his heart on his sleeve, but in this instance, his heart was on the page.

He closed his eyes once more, remembering the tactile mental map he’d made of Oliver’s body. Every muscle, every curve.

 

Elio took his clothing off and stood in front of the mirror, pushing out his gut and sucking it back in. He tried a variety of stances, in an attempt to figure out just how he would pose for Oliver. Nothing worked, nothing was sexy. But maybe Oliver would think it was? He thought his artsy selfie was sexy. He still had a hard time believing that Oliver found him attractive and wanted to be with him, but he was slowly learning to accept being an object of desire. Elio had spent his entire life being rejected by girls and feeling solidly mediocre about his looks, so it was foreign that someone as handsome and special as Oliver wanted him, as much as he wanted Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently life never stops being busy. I have some fun things planned for the next few chapters, so stay tuned!
> 
> I had toyed with having Elio wrestle Marzia to get his phone back, but I thought it would be funnier if you just saw the messages and didn't realize they were coming from her at first. Also, it was surprisingly fun coming up with emoji equivalents for sex acts. Let me know if you have any suggestions for their future sexting flirtation :)
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with the story and for your wonderful comments, both on here and on tumblr.


	25. I Meant You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a NSFW graphic at the bottom, FYI.

**Friday, March 22, 2019**

Elio sat with Marzia and Chiara in the cafeteria before the bell rang for first period. He sipped his second coffee of the morning, and compared his precalculus homework with Marzia’s, making sure he had all of the correct answers. He took out his graphing calculator, checked the equation on the one answer where they differed, and then crossed out his answer and replaced it with Marzia’s. He should have just assumed she was right from the start, she was always right.

“So, Elio’s got a sex date tonight,” Marzia said to Chiara.

“Are you really going to do it tonight? I’m so excited for you!” Chiara squealed. “Hopefully it’s as good as my sex date was last weekend.”

Marzia and Elio both pretended to make gagging noises at the same time. “If I have to hear about Drew’s dick one more time, I’m going to go find him and pour my coffee on his lap,” Marzia joked. “I’m happy for you, though. Who would have thought you would be going out with Drew Guzman? Especially after the lackluster sex you guys had after Ethan’s party last year.”

After grabbing Elio’s coffee and taking a gulp, Chiara said, “We’re not officially ‘going out’ or anything. I’m still seeing where things go with him. He’s fun in bed, but I’m not sure how much substance there is to him. He’s been surprising me, so maybe he’ll stick around.”

Marzia leaned back on the bench and let out a loud sigh. “Once again, I’m the only one not having sex tonight.”

“We’re not having sex,” he said. “He’s coming over and we’re going to… draw.”

“Okay... ‘to draw’. Is that what we’re calling hand jobs now?” Marzia remarked.

Chiara giggled and added, “I mean… hand jobs can lead to blow jobs which can lead to sex. Even if you don’t think you’re going to sleep together, it’s better to be prepared… I’m just saying, you never know where your night is going to lead you.”

Elio realized that Chiara was right. Oliver wanted to wait a few more weeks to have sex, but maybe he should go buy condoms on his way home from school just in case…

“Hey, Kiki, can you come over after school and help style my hair again?” Elio asked. “Oliver really liked it last time, and I want to look nice for him tonight.”

“Sorry, El, I’ve got play rehearsal, and then Drew’s taking me out for dinner. I don’t know if I’ll have time to get to your place beforehand. If you want to stop by play rehearsal, I can do your hair there, but I don’t have all of my products with me.”

Elio shook his head. “That’s okay. I’ll figure something out.”

Chiara ran her fingers through Elio’s curls, detangling a few strands. “You look great, I don’t think you need to change anything to impress him. He already likes you for who you are.”

“And if he wants you to change, tell us, because we’ll go find him and give him a talking to,” Marzia added.

“Thank you both. I think he likes me the way I am. He just makes me want to be better. He’s so… perfect… and I’m afraid I can never live up to that.”

“Elio, you worry too much. YOU are wonderful. Don’t ever forget that.” Chiara said. “Also, you look like the living embodiment of the heart-eyes emoji when you talk about him, it’s really cute.”

“You should see how Oliver’s contact is saved in Elio’s phone…” Marzia snickered.

Chiara pouted until Elio handed over his unlocked phone. She went into the contacts and began to laugh. “Did you do this so he’d come up first alphabetically?”

“No, I did it because every time I think about him, I get nervous goosebumps, and… you’ve seen what he looks like. And also, his first and last name together had too many characters to fit on the screen.”

The bell rang and it was time for the tre amici to start their day. “See you both in gym!” Chiara said, kissing each of them on the cheek.

* * *

After school, Elio found himself in the family planning aisle of Duane Reade. He kept looking at the boxes, trying to decide what he was supposed to buy. Oliver was big - really big. Did he need a Magnum condom? Or would a regular condom be fine? He assumed he didn’t need spermicidal condoms because it wasn’t as if either of them could get pregnant. Did that also help prevent transmission of STIs? Why didn’t they teach anything useful in sex ed? He took out his phone, and in incognito mode, googled this. Once the Planned Parenthood website verified that spermicide does not prevent transmission of STIs, he put the box back on the shelf. At another time, he’d have to ask Marzia and Chiara what “her pleasure” condoms were, if they worked, and if they would also make sex better for him. Elio bought a box of regular sized condoms and a box of Magnum condoms. He hoped Oliver wouldn’t laugh at him for buying both boxes.

* * *

Bless Zia Mafalda. Elio had told her that Oliver would be over for dinner, so she cleaned his entire apartment for him, and made him fresh ravioli and tomato sauce to cook tonight. She left a note that she’d also left a salad, some vegetables, and grated parmesan in the fridge, with instructions on how to cook the asparagus the way he liked it. He went upstairs, where Mafalda was playing cards with her ESL friends.

“Elio!” they all shouted. Babushka Ludmilla (he still resented that she made him call her that) came over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Zia Mafalda?” he said.

“Yes, Elio,” she asked, putting down her cards and walking toward him and back into the next room. Elio tightly wrapped his arms around her middle and hugged her for a longer time than usual.

“Grazie,” he said. “Grazie di tutto. Have I ever told you that you are the best Aunt in the world?”

“It was nothing, Tesoro. You know I’d do anything for you.”

He nodded and wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye. “I know. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

A loud, mildly-accented voice shouted from the other room. “Mafalda! It’s your turn! Don’t keep us waiting!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she shouted back, giving Elio a kiss on the top of his head.

* * *

He put out his easel and drawing supplies, took out a bottle of wine and two glasses, and set up everything for dinner. Elio anxiously checked the time on his phone, even though he knew Oliver was on his way. He’d already texted when he transferred to the express train. He’d be there soon.

This was the most nervous he’d ever been about Oliver. What if Oliver took one look at him naked and was repulsed by what he saw? What if he decided he was too skinny, or not manly enough, or looked too young? Maybe he should have been doing crunches and pushups, try to build up his muscle mass. Elio contemplated doing some exercises right now, but what would that change in the next fifteen minutes besides making him sweatier? Oliver knew what he looked like, Elio reminded himself that he was being ridiculous.

He anxiously paced around the apartment for a few more minutes, nervously moving things around, just to give himself something to do with his hands. Finally, Oliver texted that he was out of the subway and would be there in a few minutes. Elio went into the kitchen, boiled water for the ravioli, and pre-heated the oven to make the vegetables. Once the doorbell rang, he greeted Oliver at the door with as big of a grin as he could muster.

“Hey…,” he said, in a failed attempt at a seductive voice.

“Hi,” Oliver said in a deep growl, stepping inside so they could close the door. He throw his backpack on the floor, and immediately wrapped his arms around Elio’s waist, pulling him into a sweet languid kiss. “Mmm, I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He took Oliver’s hand and led him to the kitchen. “I’ve started making dinner for us. Or really… Zia Mafalda made us dinner, and I’m just heating it up as per her instructions.”

“I get to experience the famous Mafalda’s cooking firsthand? What did I do to deserve this?” Oliver jokingly asked. “What’s on the menu?”

Elio opened the fridge and took out the ravioli and the salad. “A salad starter, then homemade burrata ravioli, lemon pepper asparagus, and pistachio cannolis for dessert.”

“This sounds amazing! Anything I can do to help?” Oliver offered.

He shook his head. “Nah, all I really need to do is heat everything up. I’ll serve the salad first.”

Over salad, Oliver told Elio about his week with his grandmother, and how she kept refusing assistance. “She’s lived alone since my grandfather died a couple of years ago, and she can handle most things on her own, but I think it frustrated her not being able to drive herself around this week. My sister is going to spend the weekend with her, and then my Aunt is going to come in from California next week. Hopefully after that, Grandma’ll be clear to walk and drive on her own again.”

“It must be difficult allowing other people to do things for you when you’re used to being independent,” Elio mused.

After Elio served the ravioli, Oliver took one bite and moaned loudly. “Holy shit, this might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Your Aunt made this?”

Elio beamed proudly. “I told you she was the best cook. You’ll have to come over and have her cook for you firsthand. Oh! Actually, I meant to ask you, are you going home for Passover in a few weeks?”

“When is it?” Oliver asked, taking out his phone to look it up. “No, I’ll be here. Why?”

“My parents asked if I wanted to invite you over the first night for the seder. They want to ‘officially’ meet you, and my dad said you could talk to him about your law school woes.”

Oliver placed his hand on Elio’s, and intertwined their fingers. “That sounds nice. I’ll be there. Let me know beforehand what to wear and what to bring.”

“Honestly, you could wear a potato sack or arrive naked and my family would still adore you.”

The two boys devoured their dinner, and Oliver sighed after his last bite of ravioli. “I could easily eat three more servings of this. Seriously, thank your aunt for me.”

“I will. She’ll wind up making ten more batches for you to bring home and freeze, so watch what you say around her. She’s sometimes too thoughtful.”

Oliver pushed his chair closer to Elio’s, and cupped Elio’s chin with the palm of his hand, gently grazing Elio’s cheek with his thumb. “Dinner was delicious, makes me even more excited for dessert.”

“I thought I told you we have cannolis in the fridge,” Elio said. Oliver looked into Elio’s eyes and chuckled to himself. Elio suddenly realized what Oliver meant. “Oh… you meant me…” he said, embarrassed by his own naivete.

“I meant you,” Oliver repeated, pressing his lips to Elio’s. Elio wrapped his arms around Oliver’s neck, and returned the kiss excitedly. He lost himself in the kiss, enjoying the warmth of Oliver’s hands on his hips. Just as he was about to hop off of his chair and pull Oliver to the bedroom, modeling be damned, his doorbell rang.

“Fuuuuuck,” Elio whispered into the kiss, digging his fingers into Oliver’s scalp. “Can I ignore that?”

Oliver nipped at Elio’s lip and said, “Go, it could be important. I’ll still be here.”

Elio jumped out of his seat and went to answer the door. An older couple was standing at the door, holding a bottle of wine. “You must be Elio!” the woman said. “Are your parents home?”

“They live upstairs,” Elio said, pointing at the door at the top of the entry staircase. “This is the entrance to the garden apartment."

“Silly me,” said the main. “Sorry for the interruption. I take it you’re not joining us for dinner and won’t be playing piano for us?”

“Not tonight, I’m afraid. I have other plans…” he said, short of slamming the door in the couple’s faces.

“That’s a shame! Anyway, enjoy your evening!” the woman said, grabbing her husband. They plodded up the stairs to the main house, and Elio locked the door behind them.

“I thought they’d never leave,” he said. “Now where were we?”

Oliver smirked and said, “I believe I was going to draw you like one of my French girls… or, like my French boy, anyway.”

Elio gave Oliver a blank stare. “What are you talking about?”

“ _Titanic_? It’s a play on what Rose says to Jack before he draws her naked?”

He shook his head. “Never seen it.”

“How have you never seen _Titanic_? I thought you said you liked movies? It’s one of the biggest movies of all time!”

Elio stuck out his tongue and said, “I like GOOD movies. French films. Arthouse films. Not garbage like _Titanic_.”

“Hannah loved it when we were kids and made me watch it all the time. Also, Leo has never been hotter than he was in that movie.”

“Should I start to be jealous?” Elio asked.

“Nothing to worry about,” Oliver mused. “Now, where do you want me?”

Elio took Oliver’s hand and led him back to the living room, where he’d already set up the easel. “I have everything you’ll need here. Paper, charcoals, pencils, this should all be enough. I guess I should go change?”

Oliver nodded and took a seat in front of the easel. Elio went down the half a flight of stairs to his bedroom, closed the door, and slowly took off his clothing, neatly folding each item and placing it on the dresser. He plucked his bathrobe from the closet, but looked at his naked form once more in the mirror, praying that Oliver would like what he saw.

“Are you ready for me?” Elio asked shyly, walking back to the living room. “How do you want me?”

Oliver bit his lip and suggestively said, “I don’t think you want to know my actual answer to that question right now… but, I guess however you feel most comfortable...”

Between Oliver’s ribald comment and the sensation of the bathrobe against his skin, Elio could feel himself getting hard. His erection wasn’t going to dissipate any time soon, so he decided to shed the robe and finally expose himself to Oliver, physically and emotionally.

As he had practiced in the mirror, he chose a pose where he leaned his arm against the bar stool he had put out for support. Elio made eye contact with Oliver, and they both nodded in silent understanding, which eased Elio’s fears somewhat.

Elio noticed as Oliver sized him up from head to toe, staring at (Elio didn’t dare assume he was admiring) every inch of his body. He hadn’t run for the hills, so this was a good sign. Oliver finally picked up a pencil and began to draw. Elio sensed Oliver spent an inordinate amount of time looking at his crotch, which made him feel self conscious, but he had done the same when Oliver was the model in his art class last month. At least Oliver didn’t look disappointed in what he saw. Elio’s nerves slowly evaporated. Why was he worried? It was clear that Oliver liked him. They texted pretty much non-stop when they weren’t together, and when they kissed and touched each other, their bodies were so compatible. Deb had told him that she’d never seen Oliver liked this before, and that he was crazy about Elio. He smiled at Oliver, and watched him work.

Oliver grew frustrated and ripped the piece of paper from the notebook, and threw it on to the ground, and started a new drawing. “Everything okay?” Elio asked, keeping his pose.

“Yeah, I didn’t like the first one so I’m starting from scratch.”

Elio tried to stay as still as he could. He didn’t know how Oliver had held his pose for so long. “Do you want me to change positions for this one?”

“No, it’s great. I have a perfect view from here.” After a few scribbles, Oliver grinned, and began to furiously draw on the page. “C’mere. Want to see what I’ve got?” he asked.

Elio walked over to Oliver, stood next to him, and he and Oliver began howling in laughter as they looked at the page.

“I told you I wasn’t a good artist! You should probably revise your thinking that anyone can draw, because I most certainly cannot. Even with the best model.” Elio picked the notebook off of the easel and examined the drawing once more. On his second attempt, Oliver had literally just drawn a stick figure, with curly hair and an erection.

“Thank you for humoring me,” Elio said, rubbing his finger underneath his eye to wipe away a few tears.

“If you wanted to model… I’m clearly not good at drawing, but I’m a half decent photographer…” Oliver said, placing his hand on Elio’s hip.

“You want to take pictures of me… naked?”

“Naked, clothed, just as long as you’re in the pictures. I don’t have enough pictures of you, and what I have are mostly selfies we’ve taken or that you’ve sent me.”

Elio was nervous once more, but nodded. If Oliver wanted to take pictures of him, he was going to pose for him. The last time he’d been naked in front of a camera, he was a year old and in the bathtub. But, he would do anything for Oliver, and it excited him that Oliver wanted more pictures of him.

“Where should I pose?” Elio asked.

“Hold on, let me just put my phone on airplane mode so the pictures don’t sync with the cloud before I put them in a protected folder…”

Over the next fifteen minutes, Oliver took pictures of Elio on the couch, against the wall, in the kitchen, and in various other places and poses in the garden apartment. Oliver gave good direction, and the pictures skewed more artistic than pornographic, which Elio was both thankful for and a little disappointed by. However, the photoshoot helped him feel completely at ease around Oliver.

As Elio leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom for a shot, he asked, “So, are you going to let me take pictures of you?”

“I think that would only be fair, as long as we were discrete” Oliver replied, locking his phone and putting it in his pocket. “But maybe not this minute.” He walked over to Elio, looked him over once more from head to toe. Oliver placed his finger under Elio’s chin, tilted Elio’s head up, and growled, “I don’t think I can resist you any longer. If you don’t like what I’m doing, or want me to stop at any time, tell me.”

* * *

_ Author's note: _

_ This is what I was picturing Oliver's stick figure drawing to look like. I made this in Paint. I am the most artistic person on the planet. _

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave the chapter like that, but the next one will be REALLY fun :)


	26. Delicious, Just Like the Rest of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very NSFW...

**Friday, March 22, 2019 - Saturday, March 23, 2019**

Elio was nervous about what Oliver was talking about, but before he could think about it, Oliver was laying a trail of kisses down his jawline, across his cheek, and down his earlobes. When he began kissing his neck, Elio let out a soft sigh. “God, I love when you make noises like that,” Oliver whispered into his ear.

Oliver ran his hands down Elio’s chest and stomach, and followed his touch with his lips. Elio felt dizzy when Oliver got down on his knees and began kissing his abdomen and thighs. “If this is too much, tell me,” he said as he gently gripped Elio’s cock and stroked it. Oliver teasingly licked the tip and looked up at Elio for consent.

“Ohhhh, this is definitely not too much,” Elio gasped. Oliver took this as a sign to continue, and slowly took Elio’s length into his mouth. Elio grinned happily, and dug his fingers into Oliver’s hair before gripping the door frame for support. This felt even better than he’d imagined it would, and he wasn’t sure how long he could last.

Elio couldn’t control the stream of swear words in multiple languages that came out of his mouth when Oliver began slowly sucking his balls. He returned to his cock, taking the entire thing in his mouth, and then gradually increased his pace. “Oliver, I’m close,” he warned, since Elio wasn’t sure what the protocol was with receiving oral sex, but this just egged Oliver on even more. As he peaked, he grunted loudly and moaned Oliver’s name.

Oliver stood up, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and grinned. “Was that okay?” he asked with a self-satisfied smirk. He knew that it was more than okay - he’d told Elio several weeks ago that he knew what he was doing, and was going to make everything as good as possible for him. He’d lived up to his word.

Before responding, Elio panted, regaining his composure. “Holy shit, that was amazing…”

“I take it you liked it, then?” Oliver said, carding his fingers through Elio’s curls.

Instead of replying, Elio grabbed Oliver by the shirt, dragged him into the bedroom, and pushed him onto a seated position on the bed. He straddled him, and hungrily kissed Oliver. “I like this side of you,” Oliver said, kissing him again.

“Less talking, more stripping,” Elio said, arching back so he could pull off Oliver’s shirt. Oliver undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. Elio stood up, pulled down the zipper and tugged off Oliver’s jeans and boxers in one go.

Oliver sat at the edge of the bed, and Elio knelt on the floor. “Elio, don’t feel pressured to do this,” Oliver whispered.

“No, I want to do this for you. I’ve been thinking about nothing else all week,” Elio replied. “Do you not want me to? You keep trying to stop me.”

“Oh, I think it’s obvious how much I want it,” he said, pointing at his erection. “I just don’t want you to ever feel like I’m pressuring you, and I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do or aren’t ready for.”

Instead of responding, Elio gripped Oliver’s length and slowly slid it into his mouth. There was a lot of Oliver, so he took as much of him as he could until the tip hit the back of his throat, and Elio felt like he was choking. He pulled back, took a deep breath, and tried again. Elio wondered how people breathed while performing oral sex, because this was proving difficult. People actually enjoyed doing this? How did they not choke or pass out?

Oliver gripped the mattress on either side of him, leaned his head back and groaned loudly, and Elio very quickly realized why people did this. “Oh my god, Elio, this is amazing, but if you feel like you’re going to gag, you don’t need to deep throat me the entire time,” he said, moaning between every few words. Oliver’s responses were reassuring, and with a bit of verbal assistance and course correction from Oliver, he quickly got the hang of things. Elio made eye contact with Oliver, and then used his hand to tug whatever he couldn’t fit in his mouth. This seemed to please Oliver, and his moans were vocal encouragement for Elio to speed up and add pressure. Eventually, Oliver said that he was close, and Elio sped up even more. Elio felt somewhat prepared for when Oliver climaxed, having listened to Chiara and Marzia talk in detail about blow jobs in the past. He swallowed, and noted that Oliver’s release was slightly salty, but didn’t taste as bad as he was expecting, given his friends’ stories. He licked Oliver’s length from shaft to tip, just for good measure, before getting up and sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Was that okay? Or was it too obvious that I’ve never done that before?” Elio asked, resting his head on Oliver’s shoulder.

“I mean, maybe use your teeth a little less next time,” Oliver said, but when Elio started frowning, he said, “Elio, I was just joking. That was amazing. Wow.”

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better? I want to try again, in a little while, when you’re ready for me,” Elio said, worried that he wasn’t good enough for Oliver. “I just want to make you come, again and again. I want this to be good for you.”

Oliver wrapped his arms around Elio’s waist and kissed the top of his head, nuzzling into his hair. “I won’t say no to coming again and again, but you need to stop doubting yourself. You’re great at everything you do, and it all comes so naturally to you, whether it’s piano, or art, or blow jobs. Trust me, it was great.”

“Really?” Elio asked, gently running his fingers down Oliver’s arm.

“Really. You need more confidence in yourself.” Oliver slid back onto the bed, sitting against the headboard, and beckoned for Elio to come sit with him. Elio sidled in front of Oliver, settling between his legs, resting his back and shoulders against Oliver’s chest. Oliver wrapped his arms around Elio once more, and kissed Elio’s shoulder blade. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Elio closed his eyes, and sighed as Oliver curled his hands over his own. “How’s that?”

“Where to start? No matter what you do, your hair is incredible. I’ve been trying to memorize every birthmark, freckle, and scar on your body, so I can picture it perfectly when I close my eyes and you’re not with me.”

“So it’s not bizarre that I’ve been trying to do that with your body? I always want to be able to picture and taste and feel you, even if you’re not here, but it felt weird admitting that to you.”

Oliver laughed softly and squeezed Elio tightly. “I don’t think it’s weird. Where was I? I know you think you’re too skinny, but I like that your hip bones fit in my hands. You’re so incredibly talented at so many things, and it makes me feel simultaneously jealous and immensely proud. The way you dance, and the way you hold yourself, and the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice, everything about you is so sexy. But you always seem terrified that I’m going to leave you. I promise you I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to keep trying to impress me or doing things just because you think it’ll stop me from leaving. I am absolutely crazy about you, Elio.” Oliver continued kissing Elio’s neck, shoulders and ears.

“I just want to give you my best,” Elio said, rubbing his eyes to prevent the tears that were welling up.

Elio could no longer stifle the tears that began to flow. “Are you okay, Elio?” Oliver asked, holding Elio tightly to comfort him.

“Never better, actually. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, I like you so much, I’m so attracted to you, and it’s overwhelming and scary sometimes.”

Oliver ran his thumb over Elio’s knuckle. “I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed. Do you want to take things slower?”

“No, no, no, definitely not. I think I just I experience emotions more intensely than other people. Dr. Epstein says I have higher highs and lower lows. The highs mostly because I’m what my mother dubs ‘a sensitive soul’, but the lows are sometimes because of my depression. Being really happy, or being really sad, both make me cry, and I can’t control it sometimes. I’m sorry.”

Oliver kissed the top of Elio’s head, and continued to rub his hands and arms. “Why are you sorry? This is who you are, you don’t have to apologize for it. I like you the way you are.”

Elio sat up, turned around, and faced Oliver, who used his thumb to wipe away Elio’s tears. “Thank you,” he said shyly, leaning in to kiss Oliver. His large hands cupped each of his cheeks, and Elio dug his fingers into Oliver’s scalp, mussing up his hair.

As they kissed, Oliver took the lead, and gently pushed Elio down on the bed, crawling on top of him. His whole naked body was pressed against Elio’s, the warmth of his skin causing every nerve in Elio’s body to stand on an excited edge. All of Oliver, and all of Elio, their bodies were meant to be together. He gripped Oliver’s ass cheek with one hand, and his back with the other. They were both hard again, and when Oliver’s cock rubbed against his own, he moaned excitedly into the kiss. This was it, this felt right, this was the right moment.

“Oliver, I’m ready,” Elio said.

“I thought we were going to wait, until we got tested,” Oliver said, kissing Elio’s neck again.

“I bought condoms today, just in case. Take me, please…” Elio pleaded.

Oliver ran his thumb down Elio’s jawline, smiling softly down at him. “If you’re sure that you’re ready, I definitely want this…”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Elio said excitedly. He reached over into his nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out the bag from Duane Reade with the two boxes of condoms. “I wasn’t sure what you used, so I got regular condoms and Magnums…”

Oliver took the boxes out of the bag and laughed. “Either is fine, but I can use the Magnums since you already bought them.” He opened the shrinkwrap and began to open the box while Elio put the other box back in the nightstand. “Where’s the lube?” he asked.

“Lube?” Elio replied. What could Oliver possibly need that for? “I don’t have any lube…”

“Oh, Poodle,” Oliver said with a laugh, putting the wrapped condom back in the box and placing the box on the nightstand. “You’re not ready for sex yet.” Oliver explained the basics of what sex would be like, and why they needed lube, in a tone of voice that Elio could tell was holding back laughter, but he didn’t want to make Elio feel bad for not knowing anything about penetrative sex between two men.

“I’ll go get dressed and run to the store, I can be back in ten minutes,” Elio offered. Poodle was horny and wanted Oliver more than anything.

“I don’t think so. There is no way that we are putting clothing back on or leaving this bed tonight,” Oliver said, kissing Elio’s forehead and cheeks, and eventually lips. “There are plenty of other things we can do tonight…”

Before Elio had time to feel embarrassed, Oliver kissed him hungrily, which Elio very happily reciprocated. They laid on their sides, facing each other, bodies pressed close together. Oliver gripped Elio’s cock and gently began tugging, softly running his hand down his length. Between the intimacy of the kissing, of their bodies touching, and of the placement of Oliver’s hand, Elio came quickly, much to his own surprise. He looked down and noticed that his seed had gotten everywhere - on Oliver’s hand, on Oliver’s stomach, on his own abdomen.

“Fuck, Oliver, I’m so sorry,” Elio said, feeling mortified, reaching to grab a tissue from the nightstand so he could wipe down Oliver’s stomach.

“Elio, stop apologizing! Sex between two men is going to be dirty like this. Cum is going to get everywhere, including on each other, sometimes when you’re not expecting it. It means you’re enjoying yourself, and it makes me feel good, because you like what I’m doing. Promise me that you’re going to stop feeling embarrassed over every little thing.” While Elio wiped off Oliver’s stomach, Oliver licked off the remnants that were on his arm and hand, which simultaneously mortified Elio and turned him on even more. “Delicious, just like the rest of you,” he said, smirking.

Elio pushed Oliver onto his back, and began laying a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach, before he took his cock into his mouth once more. Now that he knew what to expect, he attempted to improve his technique. He flicked his tongue gently against Oliver’s tip, lapping up the precum that had started spilling out. Elio felt like he’d very quickly gotten the hang of this blow job thing, and Oliver seemed to be enjoying it. “I’m close,” Oliver whimpered a few minutes later. “I want to come on you.”

Before he knew it, he and Oliver had switched places, and Oliver was straddling Elio’s hips and jerking himself. Elio reached up and coiled his fingers around Oliver’s cock, assisting Oliver. When Oliver came on his chest, it was warm and slightly sticky, but Elio was less disgusted than he anticipated. It actually pleased him, knowing that Oliver climaxed because of him. Oliver used the heel of his hand and smeared it across Elio’s chest. Elio couldn’t explain why, because a few hours earlier, he would have potentially found this revolting, but now it was exciting and arousing.

Oliver collapsed next to Elio and they both grinned at each other - he placed his head on Elio’s shoulder, and nuzzled into his neck. They sat in contented silence, snuggling under the cover. Elio kissed Oliver’s forehead and the tip of his nose. He could not believe how lucky he was that Oliver wanted to be with him.

“You look like you’re lost in thought. What are you thinking about?” Oliver asked.

“You,” Elio said.

Oliver began playing with Elio’s hair. “What about me?”

“I was thinking about how much you’ve changed my life in the past month. What would have happened if Nia had told Marzia to help you at Booklyn instead of me?”

“I need to buy your boss a present, then, for bringing you into my life,” Oliver said, kissing Elio’s chin. “You and I were meant to meet, though. Don’t think about things like that. If it makes you feel better, I would have tried to talk to you, anyway. I was admiring you in the window. I had to get to know the hot guy with the messy curls and the nice ass. Then you opened your mouth, and you were as smart and funny as you were good looking. I wasn’t going home without getting your number.”

Elio intertwined his fingers with Oliver’s. “I’m serious, Oliver. My life is so different, and so much better, with you in it. When I first saw you, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, and I couldn’t understand why. I was so happy when you texted me that night, and I didn’t want to stop talking to you. Then I saw you naked in my art class, and it was an epiphany. I liked you. I was attracted to you. Now I have an incredible boyfriend, and I’ve never been happier. If I hadn’t met you in Booklyn that day, I’d still be lonely, and I think it would have taken me a lot longer to realize that I’m bi. At least, I think I’m bi. I’m still working that out. But I like you, and want to be with you, and only you, so the label shouldn’t matter right now.”

“I just hope you still say that when we have to start being more careful in public,” Oliver said sadly.

“As long as I get to be with you, I don’t care about any of that,” Elio responded.

Oliver scooted up toward Elio and put his head on the same pillow, pressing their noses together. “I’m so lucky that we found each other.” They kissed softly, wrapping their legs around each other’s, using their hands to explore every inch of the other’s body. This had been a revelatory evening for Elio, and he never wanted this night to end.

When Elio was on his back, and Oliver was on top of him, Oliver whispered, “Is there anything you want me to do right now?”

Elio closed his eyes and sighed loudly. “I want you to fuck me. I want it so badly.”

“Fuck, Elio… Is there anything else I can do, without lube?”

“I want you to use your mouth again… I really, really liked that…” Elio said, feeling his cheeks flush. “It might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me, besides meeting you.”

Oliver grinned, and slowly slid down Elio’s body. “Your wish is my command…” 

 

* * *

After several more hours of cuddling, kissing, and getting each other off more times than Elio could count, Elio was resting his head on Oliver’s stomach, when he heard his stomach growl. “You hungry?” he asked. “I realized we never ate dessert.”

“Oh, we had plenty of dessert…” Oliver remarked.

“I meant the cannolis. I’ll be right back, I’ll bring them here.” Elio sat up and started walking out of the room. Oliver followed quickly behind him, wrapping his arms around his middle.

“I’ll come with you, then we won’t get crumbs in the bed,” Oliver said.

They quickly ran up the stairs and headed to the kitchen, where Elio pulled the cannolis out of the fridge. Oliver grabbed plates, and they leaned against the counter, naked, while Elio placed a cannoli on each plate.

Oliver took the first bite, and moaned. “Mmmmm,” he growled, his eyes rolling backward. “These are orgasmic.”

“I’ll show you orgasmic when we get back to the bedroom,” Elio joked, taking a bite of his own cannoli.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this smutfest was worth the wait! There's plenty more of this to come. Pun not intended.
> 
> Thank you to everyone for your comments and kudos. I'm glad you were all as entertained by my artistic skills in the previous chapter as I was.


	27. Ollie Wolly Doodle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter has a very NSFW graphic. A real one, not like the stick figure from the last one.

**Saturday, March 23, 2019**

Elio dreamily decided that of every new experience he’d had in the past month, he liked nothing better than falling asleep and waking up in Oliver’s arms. All of the fooling around they’d done the previous evening was nothing short of life-changing, and it had given Elio some much needed clarity and confidence. But the brevity of a blow job, the ephemeral nature of physical pleasure, left him insatiable. They slept for hours, their naked bodies pressed together, each unwilling to give the other an inch of personal space. Elio quickly understood that he could happily spend the rest of his life ensconced in Oliver’s warm embrace.

Last night, Elio realized that some of his worries about himself, about Oliver’s feelings, were for naught. He’d stayed put after the panic attacks, after learning about his depression, after seeing how insecure he was. Oliver was so gentle and caring with him, and perhaps by the third or fourth time his cock was in Oliver’s mouth, Elio pieced together that Oliver must genuinely like him. Elio and Oliver. Oliver and Elio. Even their names, like their bodies, were good together.

This time, Oliver had woken up first, and Elio awoke to Oliver’s fingertips grazing his shoulder and arm. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Oliver said, squeezing Elio close.

“Mmm, good morning,” Elio said, turning around to face Oliver. “How long have you been awake?” He gently kissed Oliver’s lips and then smiled at him.

“Half hour, maybe? If you didn’t wake up soon, I was going to go in search of breakfast.”

“Sorry, I was exhausted. Someone wore me out last night,” Elio said, pawing at Oliver’s chest hair.

Oliver kissed Elio’s nose and said, “It’s okay, it was a pretty great night.”

“It can be a pretty great morning, too,” Elio added, cartoonishly raising his eyebrows a few times.

Oliver softly kissed the faded bruise on Elio’s neck and asked, “Oh? And how might we accomplish that?”

Elio grinned and said, “Well, I think a blow job might do the trick.”

“You’re not sick of that, after last night?” Oliver joked.

Elio shook his head and said, “No, can conclusively say that I’ll never get sick of that.” He rolled onto his back and sighed. “But I want this to be instructive. I want you to do it to me exactly like you’d want me to do it to you. I want to give you what you want. I want to be better.”

“You’re already the best,” Oliver said, running his finger across Elio’s cheek. “You picked things up very quickly, and I like everything you’ve done. I don’t always want things the same way, anyway. Just keep doing what you’re doing, keep surprising me.”

“I want to surprise you right now, then,” Elio remarked, biting his lip.

“Well, there is something I want, if you’re up for it…”

Elio sat up quickly. “Want me to run to the store and get lube?”

Oliver laughed and wrapped an arm around Elio. “Not right now, Poodle.” He rolled over to his back, and motioned for Elio to get on top of him. “I want to watch while you touch yourself. I want you to cum on me.”

“Okay…” Elio said apprehensively, finding a comfortable position straddling Oliver’s lower abdomen. “So… you just want me to jerk off… on you, while you watch?”

“Mmhmm,” Oliver said with a prurient smile, placing a hand on Elio’s thigh. “Is that too weird for you?”

“No, it’s not,” he said, spitting into his hand and gripping his length until he was hard.

Oliver propped a pillow behind his back to change his view. “You’re so sexy,” he muttered. “Do you usually watch porn when you…”

“No,” Elio said, cutting him off. “Not really. Honestly, since I met you, you’re all I think about. Sometimes I look at the drawings of you from my art class.”

“Fuck, this is so hot,” Oliver groaned. Elio could feel Oliver’s erection pressing against his backside, which turned him on even more. He arched his back and sped up, and eventually, maintained eye contact with Oliver while he climaxed across Oliver’s chest. Taking a lead from Oliver last night, he rubbed it in, noticing his seed got matted in Oliver’s body hair.

Elio curled up next to Oliver, gently running his fingers on his chin and neck. “We should probably shower…” Elio noted, their bodies each a visible reminder of the activities of the past twelve hours.

Oliver followed Elio into the bathroom, and they turned on the shower. Elio went into the medicine cabinet, filled a glass with water, and took his pill before hopping into the shower with Oliver. He’d never showered with anyone before, and Oliver took up most of the room in the shower, but it was as sexy and intimate as Elio was hoping. Elio particularly enjoyed the scalp massage he received when Oliver rubbed shampoo into his hair. After they’d each soaped off, Elio got on his knees and pleasured Oliver once more. “Not that I’m complaining, but you’re like a child who just got a new toy,” Oliver joked, while Elio experimented with his technique. Elio pulled back so he could respond to Oliver, who quickly said, “Oh, God no, please don’t stop.”

* * *

Elio took Oliver to Bergen Bagels for breakfast, where they each got an everything bagel with cream cheese and lox. Oliver stopped to take a picture of his bagel, and they ate their bagels and drank their coffee on the walk back to the brownstone. While Oliver was setting up his laptop and books to do some schoolwork, Elio went upstairs to drop off some bagels for his family.

“Hey, Elly Belly,” Sammy said from the kitchen table, putting down his iPad, on which Elio assumed he was reading the newspaper. “Thanks for the bagels! Are you going to eat breakfast with us?”

He shook his head. “No, I ate on my walk back. I need to go do some work, anyway.”

“You have all day to work! Why don’t you join us for a bit?” Sammy encouraged.

“I shouldn’t, I need to practice the piano and work on my paper on  _The Grapes of Wrath_.”

“I see,” Sammy said, taking a sip of coffee. “Did you have a nice time with Oliver yesterday?”

Elio was unable to hide the toothy grin that automatically appeared on his face when Oliver was mentioned. “I did. Zia Mafalda - thank you for the ravioli. It was perfect.”

“Of course, tesoro.” Mafalda said.

Annella elbowed Sammy and whispered, “Sammy, I think he still has a guest, let him be…”

Elio nodded and said, “I should go back downstairs, I wanted to make a dent in my homework before work tonight.”

“Will you be eating lunch with Oliver?” Annella asked.

“Not sure. I’ll take care of it myself, don’t worry,” he said.

* * *

When he came back into the garden apartment, Oliver was walking around, looking at some of the paintings and drawings Elio had made over the past week, most of which were of Oliver.

“You’re so talented,” Oliver said, running his finger over one of the drawings. “These are all of me, I wish I had a nice drawing of you. Not like the ones I did yesterday.”

“Do you want me to draw one for you? I can’t promise it’ll be good.”

Oliver took out his phone and scrolled to the pictures from the previous night. “Think you can use this one? I need my own masturbatory fodder…”

Elio felt his cheeks heat up - he was regretting telling Oliver that. “Here, give me your phone and I’ll draw this for you while you study. But then I’ll need to get some work done, too.”

The easel was still out from last night, so Elio kept Oliver’s phone in his lap while he drew. He’d done a unit on self portraits before, but only of his face. He’d never been naked in the pictures, and he felt awkward trying to get certain parts of his anatomy correct. As he drew, Oliver’s phone started to buzz. “You’re getting a FaceTime call from your sister,” Elio said, looking at the caller ID.

“Can you answer it? I’ll be there in a second,” Oliver shouted from the table.

Elio swiped to answer the call. “Uhh, hi Hannah, I’m Elio,” he said, holding the phone out and waving with his free hand.

“Oh my gosh! Elio! It’s so nice to meet you!” she said. Oliver and his sister definitely shared a family resemblance. They had similar noses, her hair was also dark blonde, and she had the same piercing blue eyes. Though Elio had a suspicion that she was not nearly as tall. “I take it my brother’s with you if you’re answering his phone?”

“Yeah, we’re at my place.” Elio suddenly felt Oliver swoop in behind him, wrap his arms around his middle, and rest his chin on his shoulders.

“Hannah Banana!” he said, smiling at his sister.

“There’s my Ollie Wolly Doodle,” she said, laughing.

Elio looked back at Oliver, then at Hannah on the screen. “Any other strange family nicknames I should know about?” he asked.

“Probably, but none I can think of at the moment,” Oliver said. “How’s grandma?”

“She’s as stubborn as ever. She’s taking a shower right now, then I’m going to take her to the grocery store. I think you’re right that we need to get her an aide until she’s walking without the cane, I’m worried that she’s going to fall again.”

“We need to call Dad about that later. Grandma’s going to fight it,” Oliver said.

Hannah nodded. “I know. It’s a shame I can’t stay here past tomorrow but I need to get back to Boston on Monday.”

Oliver grabbed his phone from Elio’s hand and paced around the apartment, talking to his sister about his grandmother and about the LSAT. “I haven’t gotten higher than a 172 on the practice tests. I need to do better,” he said.

“Ollie, just relax. You’re the smartest one in the family. If I can get a 178, you can get a perfect score. Trust me, you’ll be fine. Two more weeks and you won’t have to think about it anymore.”

As Oliver walked around, Hannah said, “Wait, stop where you are for second. Your boyfriend has an actual piano in his apartment? That’s awesome!”

He grinned and said, “Yep! I told you he’s a pianist.”

“I thought you were talking about his penis,” she said jokingly, stressing the last word. “And I don’t really need to know about my baby brother’s sex life.”

“Piano. Not penis. Though he plays both quite well,” he said, sticking his tongue out. “He knows how to do more than just tickle the ivories…” How was Elio ever going to face her if they met in person?

“GROSS. STOP IT. LA LA LA, NOT LISTENING,” Hannah shouted. “Seriously, though, I can’t wait to hear him play the PIANO some day,” she said.

“Why not now? Hey, Elio, can you play something for my sister?”

Elio stretched his arms overhead, sat at the bench, and said, “Sure!” After cracking his knuckles, he played a few minutes of a Liszt Piano Sonato while Oliver broadcast him to his sister.

“Bravo!” she shouted, putting her phone down so she could clap. “I need to go help Grandma, but it was good talking to you, Ollie, and it was really great to meet you, Elio! I’ve heard so much about you, and it was nice to see you briefly. Ollie - he’s hot AND talented. Keep him around.”

“Bye!” Elio and Oliver shouted in unison, before Oliver hung up.

Oliver put his phone in his pocket and leaned against the keys. “You are so sexy when you play the piano,” he uttered, pushing down about an octave of keys at once with his large hand.

“Hey, hey, watch the piano, anywhere but the piano, please,” Elio said nervously. “The piano is sacred. This was a gift for my eighteenth birthday and it was really expensive, I don’t want to break it.” If only Elio knew that a month from this moment, he and Oliver would be fucking on the very same piano against the very same keys.

Oliver got up and stood behind Elio, squeezing his shoulders. “Keep my hands off of the piano, got it. Hopefully the same doesn’t apply to the person who plays the piano?”

“No, of course not. It’d be a crime if your hands weren’t on me…”

Oliver gave Elio’s shoulder one last squeeze, kissed the top of his head, and said, “I should probably get back to work.” _What a tease._

Elio sat back down at his easel, and finished the drawing for Oliver. “C’mere, I think I’ve finished,” he said, calling Oliver over.

 

 

Oliver stood next to Elio, admiring the drawing. “Wow, this is amazing,” he said, smiling. “It’s a work of art, just like you,” he said, bending down to kiss Elio. Elio started laughing uncontrollably.

“Did you really think that line would work?” he asked, giggling.

“I’ve been waiting about an hour to use it, so, yes.”

* * *

The bookstore was quiet that evening, so Elio took out his sketchbook and began to doodle while Marzia stood bored at the register.

“So? Sex date?” Marzia said, leaning her head on her fists and bending over toward the counter. “Are you now a man? Should I start singing that _Siman Tov and Mazel Tov_ song we had to sing at the end of every Bar and Bat Mitzvah?”

Elio laughed and said, “How do you even remember that? You aren’t Jewish.”

“I grew up in Manhattan and go to school in Brooklyn. I went to a Bar or Bat Mitzvah every weekend for the entirety of the seventh grade, and I live within walking distance of Katz’s Deli, Yonah Schimmel’s Knishes, and Russ and Daughters. I think I’m more Jewish than you are.”

“L’chaim,” Elio said, clinking his pencil with Marzia’s water bottle.

“I think you’re avoiding my question,” Marzia said. “I need details, as graphic as you’re willing to give me.”

Elio looked around to make sure that there were no customers around. Nia was in the back room. “Let’s just say… he’s so big, I thought I was going to choke the first time.”

“YES!!!!!!!!!!!!” Marzia screamed loudly. “Did you go any further, or just oral sex?”

“No, but it was a very exhausting evening and morning for both of us…”

Marzia jumped up and down, squealing. She reached over the counter and hugged what she could reach of Elio. “I am so happy for you! Sorry I keep asking you about your sex life, but if I don’t ask, you won’t tell me anything, and I’m nosy.”

“You’re what my grandfather would have called a _yente_ ,” Elio said.

“Do you mind? I only ask because I love you.”

“No, I don’t mind. I like being able to talk to you about this.”

Both Elio’s and Marzia’s phones buzzed, with notifications that Chiara was live on Instagram. “Do we have to watch this?” Elio asked. “How many times do I have to listen to her talk about her favorite shade of lipstick or how to apply highlighter?”

Marzia nodded. “Boost her viewer numbers. She can get some sponsors once she hits ten thousand followers, and she’s really close.”

“Why does she even want to be an Instagram influencer anyway? I love Chiara, but it’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t you remember that at her acting camp, she was told that some agents won’t even take on a client unless they already have a following online? She’s starting early, so by the time she’s graduated from college, she’s laid the groundwork.”

Elio grunted. “Ugh, I know. Fine, I’ll watch.”

They each took out their phones and watched. Chiara was standing outside on a Brooklyn street, wearing fashionable sunglasses, with a bow in her hair and a bright pink peacoat. “Hi! It’s your girl Kiki, coming to you live from somewhere in north Brooklyn!”

“Hey, I think Chiara’s in Greenpoint,” Elio said, squinting to read the street sign behind her. “She’s down the block from here.”

“Oh no… is she coming here?” Marzia asked. “I don’t want to be on her feed again. It was bad enough the time she made me sit while she gave me a makeover for her viewers.”

“I was bored at home, so I decided it would be fun to drop in on my two best friends at work! Let’s go see what they’re up to.” Chiara walked through the door of the bookstore, and Elio and Marzia shut off their phones.

“Hi Marzia! Hi Elio!” she exclaimed, turning the phone around to broadcast her grumpy looking friends. “Say hi, I’ve got almost a thousand people watching!”

“Uhhhhh, hi?” Elio said, sheepishly waving before he ducked behind the counter.

“What are you two up to?” Chiara asked, heading to the register.

Marzia grimaced at the camera. “Chiara, we’re working.”

Chiara turned the phone around to face herself again. “If you guys don’t remember, Marzia and Elio both work at Booklyn, this super cool indie bookstore in Greenpoint! If you’re ever in New York, you should totally shop here! Hashtag shop local!”

Marzia rolled her eyes at Elio, who stifled a giggle.

“So, Chiara, ummm, how are your play rehearsals going?” Elio asked. He hated being on her live stream, it made him feel awkward and uncomfortable.

“Thanks for asking, El! They’re going SO WELL! If you’ve all been following my insta stories, I’m playing the lead in _The Radium Girls_! The play is right after Easter break, and I hope my followers in New York come out to Brooklyn Prep to see me in it! I’ll be taking selfies with my fans after each show!”

Chiara paced around the register area, spouting more nonsense into her phone. She then noticed Elio’s sketchbook on the table. “Oh! Elio! What did you draw today?”

Elio reached to grab his sketchbook, but Chiara got to it first. “Nothing, just some doodles. Nothing interesting, can I have that back?”

Chiara flipped around the book and said, “Guys, Elio is SUCH a good artist! I’ll show you what he’s been up to!” She switched the direction of her camera and broadcast his sketchbook.

“Kiki, please don’t, please give it back,” he said, reaching forward, just out of reach of the book.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here. A bowl of fruit, oh look, a sketch of Marzia at the register! Doesn’t that look like her?” She asked, holding the sketchbook up so it was in the frame with Marzia’s face. She flipped the page and Elio turned bright red. The next page was just a drawing of Oliver, from the waist down, penis erect, that he’d doodled from memory. Her thousand viewers just saw Elio’s drawing of a dick.

Chiara instantly slammed the book shut and said, “Well, that’s enough of that for today! I’ll be going live again tonight, a lot of you have asked to see Meatball, so I’ll buy him a new toy and show you when he plays with it! Ciao bellas!” she added, blowing a kiss to the camera, and closed her stream.

“Fuck, Elio, I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay, it’s not like Oliver’s face was in the picture, no one knows it was him…” Elio said, still feeling mortified. Marzia was rubbing his back, helping slow down his heavy breathing.

Chiara opened the book again and closely examined the drawing. “This is what he looks like? Oh, shit, Elio, you are so lucky!”

“I mean, I did that from memory, so not a photo or anything…”

The girls both giggled, and Chiara put out her hand for a high five, which Elio reluctantly returned.

“So, I take it you had some fun with this last night,” Chiara joked, pointing at the drawing, which she was still examining in detail.

“And this morning,” Marzia added, making a crude gesture with her hand, mouth and tongue.

“Gimme my book back, just go grab a book from the romance section if you want some porn,” Elio said.

“But a picture is worth a thousand words!” Marzia said, laughing.

Elio knew his friends were never going to relent, so he just let them roll with the punches for a while. He rested his head on Marzia’s shoulder and grabbed her hand. “Things are going so well with him, and I’m SO happy. This can’t possibly last, can it? Am I going to get hurt?”

“El, you deserve to be happy. I have a good feeling about this, about Oliver,” Chiara said.

“No matter what, we’re here for you,” Marzia added. “We love you.”

Chiara hung around for a while, before heading home for dinner. A few junior high students who follow Chiara on Instagram came in to see if they could take a picture with her, but otherwise, the rest of the evening was uneventful.

As he was leaving his shift, Elio called Oliver to tell him he was on his way to Oliver’s apartment. “Oh! Can you stop and bring some pierogis on your way here?” Oliver asked.

“Of course. Want me to get you a bag of frozen pierogis, too, so you can have some later in the week while you’re studying?”

“Excellent idea,” Oliver said. “Now, hurry up and get here so we can take advantage of my empty apartment before Howie gets back tomorrow…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, THANK YOU to [chalamazed/](http://chalamazed.tumblr.com) [stmonkeys](http://stmonkeys.tumblr.com) on tumblr for the drawing of Timmy/Elio!! Everyone should check out her art!
> 
> Thank you all for your wonderful comments. You're the best and I am so appreciative of our whole community.


	28. You're a Bad Influence

**Saturday, March 23, 2019 - Monday, March 25, 2019**

Oliver made good on his word, and the boys took full advantage of Oliver’s roommate-free apartment, using any available surface to sit on, lie down on, or rest against. After devouring their pierogies and each other, they had a frank discussion about sex. Even though they both wanted to sleep together, they both decided the right thing to do was to wait until Oliver got tested the following week. 

As they snuggled together, naked in Oliver’s bed, Elio said, “But we’ve already… you know… used our mouths. If you did have an STI, wouldn’t I have gotten it from doing that?”

“Maybe, but it’s more likely to be transmitted during penetrative sex. For my own sake of mind, I’d rather wait until I have test results. I’d be too in my head about it, and I wouldn’t be able to give you everything you deserve. When I know for sure that we are both clean, I am going to absolutely ravish you.”

Elio teasingly ran his finger over Oliver’s thigh. “I want you to ravish me now. Won’t a condom prevent anything, though?”

“Yes, but I know I’ll be paranoid about the condom breaking,” Oliver sighed. “Poodle, I want this so badly, more than I’ve ever wanted to be with anyone before. But I want your first time to be special and perfect, everything my first time with a man wasn’t.”

“You’ve never really told me about anyone you’ve been with, besides Deb, and you’ve mentioned your ex named Logan,” Elio said. “Who was your first? Your first male, anyway?”

Elio crawled onto his side and rested his head on Oliver’s shoulder, and they played with each other’s fingers while Oliver told him about his first time with his first boyfriend. “His name is Tyler Olsen. He also went to Blackwell Friends, but was three years ahead of me so we didn’t really cross paths much there. Tyler’s brother, Brock, was in my year. Brock and I played lacrosse together, and we’d hang out at his house sometimes.”

“I thought you played basketball in high school?” Elio asked.

“I played lacrosse, too. It wasn’t a big school, and I’m a tall guy, every team wanted me,” he bragged, pretending to puff out his chest. “Anyway, Tyler was a sophomore at Georgetown, and he sometimes came home on the weekends so his mom could do his laundry, or for a quieter place to study. We would see each other and flirt a bit, and I had a major crush on him. I was working on a physics final project at Brock’s house one day, and Tyler and I started talking in the kitchen. He was telling me that his friend was bailing on him the next week, and he had an extra ticket to see Hozier at Merriweather Post Pavilion. Long story short, I went with him, we had a really nice time, and at some point during the show, we’d started playing footsie and holding hands. Instead of going home, I went back to Tyler’s apartment in DC, and we had sex. We were together for six months after that, until he broke up with me before he left to study abroad in Scotland. He wanted to be able to sleep around and enjoy the ‘gay scene in Europe’.”

“What a jerk!” Elio exclaimed.

“Yeah, in retrospect, he wasn’t so great, but at seventeen, I was smitten and heartbroken. There certainly was a lot that I wasn’t prepared for, sex-wise, too. He didn’t know it was my first time, and I was afraid to tell him because until the night of the concert, I’d never even kissed a guy. I think he would have been gentler the first time if he had known. Sitting was really uncomfortable for the next few days.”

Elio used his free hand to rub up and down Oliver’s arm. “Wait… you were a bottom? I thought you’d be… that you preferred…”

Oliver chuckled, and squeezed Elio’s hand. “I’m versatile. I’ve probably topped more than I’ve bottomed, but I like both. What gave you the idea that I was exclusively a top?”

“I don’t know…” Elio said, feeling his face flush. “You’re just so… sexy, and broad shouldered, and dominating, and have such a big personality… I just thought, with our size difference, and the way that we fit together, that I would always be… and that’s fine...”

After turning to his side to face Elio, Oliver brushed Elio’s hair out of his face and pressed their foreheads together. “This is a partnership, Elio. I might be taller than you, and a few years older, but we’re on equal footing. We’re in this together, we’ll take care of each other. When the time is right, if it’s what we both want when we both want it, we’ll both be a top and we’ll both be a bottom. Unless you don’t want that.”

“No, I definitely want that,” Elio said. This opened up a whole world of possibilities for Elio. He had assumed he would bottom for their whole relationship, but with this nugget of information, Elio didn’t think he could possibly be more excited for what was to come.

“Good,” Oliver said, kissing Elio’s nose. “And you don’t mind waiting?”

“I mean… I want you to fuck me, and now that I know it’s an option, I definitely want to fuck you, but I also respect you and what you want. I’ve already been waiting eighteen years for you, what’s a couple more weeks? If all we ever do is cuddle on the couch watching television, that’s fine, too, as long as we’re together.”

Oliver reached between them and gripped Elio’s cock, which very quickly grew hard in his hand. “I promise that’s not all we’ll do.” He teasingly stroked Elio, and kissed him softly. “I’m already learning what you like. For example, you really like receiving oral sex.”

Elio’s started breathing faster, his heart racing as Oliver touched him. “I really like giving, too,” Elio said, moaning slightly, trying to concentrate on what he was saying, but Oliver’s tugs were distracting.

“Want to do both at the same time?” Oliver offered. Elio excitedly nodded.

Oliver released his grip on Elio and repositioned himself so that they could both pleasure each other at the same time while on their sides. Elio gently wrapped his legs around Oliver’s neck, finding a comfortable position. Oliver’s moans of pleasure vibrated against Elio’s cock, a sensation that Elio immediately relished. Elio gripped the back of Oliver’s thigh, squeezing his taut muscles when he particularly enjoyed something that Oliver was doing. They settled into a rhythm, and Elio enjoyed the synchronicity of their actions and the sameness of their bodies. Everything was quid pro quo, a tit for tat. Each time Elio licked or squeezed, Oliver mirrored his movement, and vice versa. Elio loved everything about this, especially that they climaxed at the same time.

“Wow,” Elio mumbled, attempting to come down from his oxytocin-induced high. Oliver turned back around and placed his head on Elio’s shoulder.

“Think doing things like that can tide you over for the next week or two?” Oliver asked.

In his blissed out state, Elio was unable to give much of an answer, but managed to squeak out an “mmhmm.”

Later, Elio decided he would go with Oliver to the clinic the following week, and get tested, too. Even though he’d never had intercourse they decided together that it was the responsible start to a healthy and fulfilling sexual relationship.

* * *

The next morning, after yet another satisfying round, Oliver asked Elio if he wanted to go for a run with him. They were able to sleep in since Oliver didn’t have LSAT class because Columbia was still on spring break. “Besides the fact that I only have my Chucks with me, you’re giving me all the exercise I need,” Elio said. “Stay here with me, instead.”

“Fine, but you’re a bad influence,” Oliver said, sticking out his tongue. “I’ll just go to the gym this evening after you go home.”

After showering, they got dressed, and went in search of breakfast. “There’s a bodega with a great bacon, egg and cheese a few blocks from here,” Oliver gushed. “You eat bacon, right?”

Elio gave Oliver a blank stare. “Of course I do, I’m human, and the worst Jew ever.”

“And you remembered to take your pill? It’s in our medicine cabinet.”

Elio nodded. “Yes, papa, I remembered to take my medicine,” he joked.

They ordered their sandwiches at the tiny bodega, and before he ate his sandwich, Oliver took yet another picture of his breakfast.

“Why do you keep taking pictures of our food? It tastes better if you put it in your mouth, not in your phone,” Elio remarked.

“Oh, umm… I’ve got a bit of a secret… I have an anonymous food and drink Instagram account. It’s got like twenty thousand followers.”

“You’re one of those people? Of course you are.” Elio guffawed, unable to stop laughing. “What’s the handle? I want to follow it.”

Oliver took out his phone and texted Elio a link. Elio followed the account, and then began scrolling through it.

“How do you have more followers than Chiara?” he asked.

“Dunno. People like pictures of food?”

 

 

 

 

Elio went back up to the picture of the sandwich Oliver was now eating. “How does this already have 400 likes? I will never get social media. Speaking of, I forgot to tell you what happened with Chiara yesterday.” He recounted the embarrassing incident from Chiara’s live story, which made Oliver laugh. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? It’s just funny. It was just a drawing of a dick, that you doodled at work. No one will ever know that it’s mine. But I’m flattered you were thinking of me at work.”

“I’m never not thinking about you,” Elio admitted. With a mouth full of bacon and egg, Oliver gave Elio a quick peck on the lips. They walked in happy silence back to Oliver’s building, and for the second day in a row, finished their breakfast before they even arrived back home.

* * *

 

When they got back, they sat on the couch, Oliver on his laptop and Elio reading a book in Italian, and got to work, every so often getting distracted by each other. A few hours later, Howie arrived back home and caught the couple in another compromising position. This time, Elio was laying down, and Oliver was on top of him, kissing, their books and electronics pushed aside on the coffee table.

“At least you two are fully clothed,” Howie joked.

Oliver and Elio sat up, and Elio knew his cheeks were bright red, though not as red as the sunburn on Howie’s face. “Welcome back! How was Mexico?”

“Other than this,” he said, pointing at his horrible burn, “it was great! We had a really nice time, you were missed.” He wheeled his suitcase into his room and came back outside, settling into the armchair. “How was your week? I see you two kept busy…” Howie said.

They caught each other up on their weeks, and once he found the motivation to stand up, Howie decided he should go unpack.

Elio snuggled into Oliver’s arms and Oliver took out his phone, scrolling through the less risque pictures they’d taken that weekend. “I really like this one of you, do you mind if I post it?” Oliver asked.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to post about each other on social media? Are you going to post me on your food Instagram?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, I have a third account. It’s private, only my close friends and sister follow it with their own private accounts. My dad’s team doesn’t know about it.”

Elio looked over at Oliver’s phone and saw him pull up the account and post the picture. He nipped at Oliver’s bottom lip. “Green Arrow 615?” Elio asked.

“I needed something that wasn’t exactly my name. Green Arrow was my favorite superhero as a kid. I loved his comics because his name is Oliver, also. And 615 is the area code in Nashville. Do you have a fake account you can follow it with? Don’t follow with your real one.”

He shook his head. “I don’t, but I can make one?”

“Not now. You’re not leaving these arms until you leave this apartment.”

 

* * *

“So, I learned this weekend that Oliver has not one, but three Instagram accounts. He’s got his normal one, one where he posts pictures of food, and a fake private account where he can post silly pictures that only his close friends can see.”

The tre amici grumpily sipped their coffee in the cafeteria before school on Monday morning. “Of course he has a finsta, a lot of people do, especially those in the public eye,” Chiara said.

“Do you have a finsta? You’re trying to be famous,” Elio noted.

“Yes, but only to follow the finstas from some of the other people in our grade. I don’t post on it. I already broadcast my whole life on Instagram and YouTube, I don’t need to post privately.”

“Why didn’t I know that so many of our classmates apparently have these?” Marzia asked.

“Probably because we’re only friends with each other?” Elio said. “I need to create a fake account so I can follow Oliver’s. What should my handle be? He said it needs to be relatively anonymous.”

Marzia grabbed Elio’s phone and brought up Instagram and started typing. “Type in a password here,” she said. “I made you an account.”

“BK Pizza Poodle?” Chiara shouted, laughing at the name, as she crowded over Elio’s phone, too.

“Oliver calls him Poodle,” Marzia said, making a kissy face.

Chiara ruffled Elio’s curls. “That’s the cutest, and kind of most accurate, thing I’ve ever heard!”

* * *

After school, Elio dropped his things off in the garden apartment, and then went upstairs to see if one of his parents was home. His mother was sitting in her office, working from home.

“Maman, do you have a minute?” Elio asked.

“I always have time for you, sweetheart. What’s up?” she asked, putting her glasses on top of her head and turning around to face her son.

“Do you know where my health insurance card is?” he asked.

“Oh, is everything okay? Do you need me to take you to the doctor? Are you ill?”

Elio shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that.”

“Don’t you need to show your card when you go to Dr. Epstein?”

“No, they have our insurance on file. I don’t think I’ve ever been asked for it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you suddenly looking for it?” Annella took out her wallet and found his card behind her own. “Here you go, you’re eighteen now, you should probably be carrying this around yourself.”

Elio ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at his toes. “I… uh… next week, I was going to go with Oliver, to get STI and HIV tests… the website said it was easier if you pay with insurance…”

Annella nodded, and handed the card over to Elio. “I see. I’m probably a little too late here, but just remember to always be safe.”

“I… we… we still haven’t, done that, yet. We’re waiting until after we’ve been tested.”

“That’s smart. Just remember that sex between two people who care deeply about each other is a beautiful thing, but you should never feel pressured to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Maman! We’ve already had this talk…” Elio exclaimed, blushing.

“Well, this time it’s even less theoretical,” Annella pointed out. She made Elio sit in the chair next to her, and gave him the safe sex talk, full of information about consent and, to Elio’s horror, pleasure. Sure, they were European, but be still didn’t want his mother telling him how much she’s enjoyed sex and that he will, too. There is nothing less sexy than thinking about your parents having sex. Maybe your great-aunt and great-uncle having sex.

“Sweetheart, I just want you to know, you can always talk to me, or your father, about anything. If there’s something we can’t help you with, I’m sure Isaac would always be willing to talk to you.”

Elio stuck out his tongue in disgust. “Gross, maman. I am NOT going to ask Isaac for sex advice. He’s so old… he’s like sixty.”

“First of all, he’s barely in his fifties, and second of all, I’m just trying to show you that you are not alone, and we are always here.” She took Elio’s hand and squeezed gently. “I want your life to be filled with so much love, and happiness, and yes, that includes good sex.”

“MAMAN!”

Annella chuckled. “I know things are not always easy for you, and it’s so difficult as a parent, sometimes knowing that there’s nothing I can do to help. So much in your life is changing right now, but you seem the happiest you’ve been in years. You hold yourself differently, you’re more confident. You’ve grown up so much, mon cherie, and I’m so proud of you.”

Elio bashfully lowered his head, avoiding his mother’s gaze. “Merci, maman…”

Later, when he was sitting in his living room doing homework, he thought about what his mother said. Had he changed that much? Being with Oliver had a positive effect on his life, but he didn’t realize how visible it was to other people. With Oliver, he’d never felt more like himself. Oliver encouraged his creativity, his goofiness, his academic curiosity. Elio had never met a better person than Oliver, and being with him gave him a sense of joy and security he’d never felt before. He wasn’t sure if this Elio his mother was seeing was a different person than he’d been a month earlier, but he didn’t care. These changes felt permanent, but they felt good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't handle how cute Elio and Oliver are. Hopefully you are all enjoying it, too.
> 
> I'm in the process of converting all of the graphics that I've posted into text format, so those of you who read this translated will be able to understand what's going on in the texts and instagram comments.
> 
> Thank you all for the support and comments and love.


	29. Keep the Scruff

_**Saturday, March 30, 2019 - Tuesday, April 2, 2019** _

 

 

 

 

 

Elio kept checking his phone for a message from Oliver, even though he knew he would be mid-exam.

“Looking for a text from your boyfriend?” Marzia teased.

“Yes. I want to know how he does on his practice LSAT. He has the real thing next week, so I hope this doesn’t discourage him. He’s been studying so much.”

Marzia stuck out her tongue and made a gagging noise. “Seriously, he should just not even bother with law school. All lawyers are scum, my mother and her boyfriend Gary included.”

“Come on, not all lawyers are that bad. Well, maybe Gary is.”

“Will you two stop gossiping? Elio, why don’t you unpack and shelve the boxes of books in the children’s section,” their manager Nia lamented. “I’ve already added them to the inventory.”

Elio left Marzia at the register and frowned at her as he went to the children’s corner.

Several hours later, while Elio was bending over to put some books on the bottom shelf, he felt a hand muss his hair. “Martz, quit it, I’m trying to put away the last of these.”

“I’ll just let you work and come by later, then.”

Elio jumped up when he realized Oliver had come to visit him at the store. “Oliver! Hi!” Elio shouted excitedly, getting on his tiptoes to kiss him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were getting drinks with classmates after the practice test?”

“I decided I’d rather see you,” Oliver said, wrapping his arms around Elio’s waist and kissing him gently.

Elio grinned uncontrollably. This was the first time since they’d met that Oliver came to see him in the store. “Greenpoint is so far out of the way, and we’re meeting for dinner in a couple of hours, you didn’t have to come here.”

“I’d wait for hours for the G train just to kiss you once,” Oliver said, looking down at Elio, smiling warmly.

“Aww, that is the cheesiest and most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Marzia said, poking her head into the aisle. Elio began swatting his hand at Marzia, so she’d leave them alone.

Oliver turned his head to face Marzia. “Thanks for telling me where Elio was so I could surprise him.”

Nia stood behind Marzia, nearly a head shorter than her but with a much more commanding presence, and tapped her shoulder. “Marzia, get back to the register.” Marzia ran back to her post, giggling.

Elio grabbed Oliver’s hand and said, “Here, come with me.” He led him into the stock room, and locked the door behind him. He looked at Oliver, and could feel the electricity between them. Oliver’s hand softly cupped Elio’s cheek, and Elio had never felt anyone look at him the way Oliver was looking at him right now. Elio glanced up and smiled, threading his hands in Oliver’s hair.

“You okay?” Oliver asked, kissing Elio’s forehead. Elio nodded. He’d been thinking about this for a while, definitely since the night they first kissed, but probably since the day they met, and it seemed like the right time to speak his mind. He didn’t want to say this in the heat of passion, he wanted Oliver to know it was real.

“I love you, Oliver,” Elio said shyly, in barely a whisper. “I’m sorry if I scare you off, but I needed to say it and…”

Oliver pressed his lips to Elio to stop him from rambling. “I love you, too, Elio,” he said, with the biggest, warmest smile Elio had ever seen from Oliver.

It was as if a massive weight was lifted from his shoulders. Elio felt happier, lighter, and still, he had nervous, giddy butterflies in his stomach. Maybe that was just what being in love felt like. He got on his tiptoes and wrapped his arms around Oliver’s neck, and Oliver placed his hands on Elio’s hips while they kissed.

Suddenly, Elio felt daring and began to unhook Oliver’s belt.

“What are you doing?” Oliver asked, laughing.

Elio continued and began unbuttoning Oliver’s jeans. “I’m giving you a blow job.” Elio surprised himself with how declarative and forceful he was being, but went with it.

“Here? At the bookstore? Aren’t there security cameras? What if your boss walks in?” Oliver asked, as Elio pulled Oliver’s jeans to his ankles.

“No cameras, and she won’t. But if she does, it’s not like we’ll get in any trouble or anything. Marzia’s uncle owns the store. I’ll make it quick.”

Oliver nodded, and Elio pulled Oliver’s boxers down and got on his knees. He sucked Oliver with urgency and passion. Several minutes later, Oliver covered his mouth with his forearm to stifle his moans while he climaxed.

“I should get back to work, now…” Elio said, standing up and giving Oliver another quick kiss as Oliver began to get dressed.

“Not yet, you aren’t,” Oliver said playfully. He unbuttoned Elio’s jeans and returned the favor. Elio dug his fingers into Oliver’s scalp, and purred softly. Elio couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Sure, Oliver was pleasuring him, but it wasn’t just about sex for either of them. They were in love. He was deliriously happy, and nothing could burst that bubble.

As he was pulling up his pants, they heard the handle of the stock room turning. Suddenly, they heard high pitched squeals of laughter. “I should have realized this was why the door was locked,” Marzia said, between giggles, removing the key from the lock. Elio had forgotten that Marzia and Nia both had keys to every door in the store… At least it was Marzia. She walked in just as Oliver was rising from his knees and Elio was zipping his pants. Oliver used his thumb to wipe stray saliva droplets below his lip, as if it wasn’t already obvious what they had been doing, and started to laugh, too.

“I see you’re taking good care of Elio,” Marzia remarked, walking into the room and patting Oliver on the back before grabbing a box of books from behind the couple.

Elio’s ears turned red. “It’s a good thing you didn’t walk in thirty seconds earlier,” Oliver joked.

“Hey, Elio’s probably the only one who works here who **hadn’t** had sex in the stock room, so, Mazel Tov!”

Elio stuck out his tongue. “Eww, do you think Nia and her wife have… in here?”

“Oh, Sarah and Nia have definitely fucked back here,” Marzia whispered, as she carried the books out of the room.

Once Marzia was gone, Elio buried his head on Oliver’s chest. “I really do need to get back to work… do you want to hang around the store, or meet me when my shift is over?”

“I’ll sit at one of the tables and do some work, if that’s not distracting for you,” Oliver offered. “I’ve got some flashcards I can study.”

* * *

Over carne asada, adobada, and nopal tostadas as Los Tacos No 1 in Chelsea Market, Oliver vented about his afternoon. “I got a 176 on the mock practice test, which is good, but I think I need to do even better.”

Elio took a sip of his agua fresca and commented, “You’re too hard on yourself. Were you always this much of a perfectionist?”

Oliver nodded. “Since I was a little kid. I used to kick myself if I got anything lower than an A+ on a test or an assignment. Still do, really. There’s always room for improvement, and I never feel good enough.”

“You’re great, and you’re the smartest person I know. Don’t beat yourself up over it. 176 is really good, right? What’s it out of, 200?”

“180,” Oliver said, with a mouth full of pork.

“You’re worried over 4 points? Oliver, that’s an amazing score!” Elio said.

He shrugged. “I should just give up and not take the test. I don’t even want to be a lawyer, why am I putting myself through this?”

“It’s one more week, if you don’t take the test, you won’t have the option of law school.” He scratched his head, and had an idea. “I know what might motivate you to do your best on the exam…”

“Oh? Besides sado-masochism and an irrational need to constantly outperform myself and others?”

Elio nodded and smirked. “Do you get the score right away?”

“No, it takes like three weeks. This was just a practice test.”

“Okay, so as soon as you get the score, I’ll come over, and we’ll set a timer. For each point you score, that’s another minute your cock is in my mouth. Get a 180 and that’s three straight hours of me getting you off.”

Oliver raised his eyebrow and started laughing. “That’s a sweet idea, but three straight hours sounds like it would border on painful for both of us. Do you know how much your jaw would hurt?”

“I can play the oboe, I have good lung capacity and jaw strength,” Elio pointed out. “But you’re right, I didn’t really think this one through. What if it was just three hours of me doing whatever you wanted me to do and focusing on you? Want me to massage your back? I’ll do it. Suck your dick? Obviously. Want me on my hands and knees so you can pound into me? I’m into it. I’ll even wash your dishes, if that’s what you want. I’m just trying to think of ways to motivate you to do well and not give up.”

“Well, that sounds like good motivation to me,” Oliver said, finishing his tostada. He then whispered, “You really want to have sex with me, don’t you.”

With wide eyes and a soft smile, Elio nodded. “More than anything. I just want to make you happy.”

“I know we weren’t planning on spending the night together, but let’s go back to my place when we’re done eating,” Oliver suggested.

* * *

Elio had been surprised last week when Oliver explained all of the things he should probably start doing before having sex. He had already started taking a fiber supplement, per Oliver’s recommendation, and bought a shower attachment for personal cleaning, but the more Oliver told him he needed to prepare for sex, the more worried it made him. Yet, there was nothing he wanted more than to know all of Oliver, for Oliver to know all of him. His carnal desires overtook his neuroses.

They cuddled naked in Oliver’s bed, sated for the moment from particularly enjoyable oral sex. “Are you sure you still want to wait until after we’re tested this week? I’m nervous, but I’m ready. I want to be with you.”

“Yes, I’m sure. But there’s nothing to worry about, we’ll both be gentle, and we’ll take our time. We can start prepping you now, if you want.”

Elio rested his head on Oliver’s chest and played with his chest hair. “What do you mean?”

Oliver reached into his drawer and pulled out his lube. He explained the basics of what he wanted to do and why. Elio thought that this was a weird step, but he didn’t tell this to Oliver. He wasn’t entirely convinced that it would be pleasurable, but Oliver had been right about everything, and he trusted him completely, so he followed his instruction and laid on his back on the towel Oliver had placed down, with his legs spread. Oliver took Elio’s cock in his mouth, slowly sucking as Elio got hard again.

Elio watched as Oliver warmed up the lube in his hands, and then poured some on his finger. “You need to relax,” Oliver instructed. “This might feel uncomfortable until it feels good, but I don’t think it’ll hurt. If it hurts, tell me, and I’ll stop.” He nodded, and gave consent for Oliver to continue.

When Oliver slowly inserted his slicked up finger, Elio cringed, anticipating pain that never came. “You okay?” Oliver asked.

“Me okay,” Elio responded.

Oliver was giving him warm words of encouragement. “You’re doing great… Just breathe… Fuck, you’re so beautiful...” Elio’s body soon acclimated - this didn’t feel bad at all.

Suddenly, he felt a pleasurable wave of sensation pulse through his body. “Ooooh,” Elio moaned incomprehensibly. His body involuntarily arched upward. “Oh my God.. do you have magic fingers?” Elio asked, as Oliver smirked and kept curling his finger inside of him.

“Do you think you can handle more? Oliver asked. Elio nodded excitedly. Oliver slowly withdrew his hand, added more lube, and resumed, scissoring his fingers, knowing exactly the right spot to hit that made Elio feel like he was melting. Soon, Elio climaxed so unexpectedly and powerfully that the world felt like it went black momentarily. “How was it?” Oliver said, looking quite proud of himself.

“Weird at first, but then… I’ve never felt like that before.” Elio took a few deep breaths, still happily dizzy.

Oliver stood up and told Elio that he’d be right back and wanted to wash his hands.

“You’re going to go out there, naked? What if Howie’s out there?” Elio asked, coming to his senses.

He shook his head. “He should be out with Jill, he won’t be here.” He strutted out of the room naked, and a minute later, came back in, the faint sounds of laughter echoing as he closed the door. “Well, I was wrong about that. I definitely just gave Howie and Jill a full-frontal show.”

Elio turned his head to the pillow and giggled. “What took you so long, then?”

“Had to wash my hands, stopped for a glass of water, had time for a quick chat…” He jumped back into bed with Elio, and Elio kissed his nose. “They were embarrassed, I wasn’t. I don’t mind being naked. Remember your art class?” He would **never** forget the art class.

Oliver and Elio put clothing back on and went into the kitchen for a snack. They grabbed a tub of hummus and some carrots from the fridge, and Oliver sat on the recliner, encouraging Elio to sit on his lap while they shared the hummus. Elio would be happy if he could spend forever just nestled against Oliver like this. It was so casual, in front of Howie and Jill, yet so intimate, and it meant everything to Elio.

“What’re you guys watching?” Oliver asked, as Howie paused the television.

“ _Game of Thrones_. We’re getting Jill caught up before the premiere in two weeks.” They all chatted about the show, which Elio actually watched (Chiara made them binge it a few years ago, claiming it had cultural importance. Elio wasn’t sure he agreed, but it was fun enough.)

“Elio, I have to say, you are one lucky guy,” Jill said, raising her eyebrows.

Howie faked a frown and said, “Hey, what is that supposed to mean? You’re making me feel inadequate now.”

She playfully rubbed his back and said, “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m not leaving you for Oliver.”

“He’s all mine. I keep reminding myself how lucky I am to have found him,” Elio said, and Oliver gently kissed him.

“Well, I couldn’t figure it out before, but tonight I saw why you like him,” Howie joked.

Oliver stuck out his nose and chin in faux defiance. “What, he couldn’t have been charmed by my suave mannerisms or my brilliant mind? Guys only like me for my dick?”

“I mean, your dick is a **very** large part of why I like you, but I like everything else about you, too.”

They softly rubbed their noses together and started laughing. “Well, it’s time to put the main reason my boyfriend likes me to use, then,” Oliver said, and they scurried back to his bedroom snickering to each other.

* * *

Elio sat with Oliver in the waiting room at the LGBT-inclusive clinic where Oliver had been going since his freshman year. Elio’s name was called first, and a nurse escorted him into an examination room. He wasn’t concerned that he had an STI, given that he’d only done more than kissing with Marzia and Oliver, but if getting tested was part of a healthy relationship, then Elio was willing to do this for Oliver.

The testing was very thorough. In addition to giving a urine sample, he had blood taken from his arm and a swab of his cheek for the rapid HIV testing. He was, however, surprised when the doctor asked him to take off his pants and boxers so he could give him a physical exam. Once his clothes were back on, and the doctor had asked questions about his sexual history, she asked if he had any questions.

“So… my boyfriend takes PrEP. Does that mean I’ll need to?”

The doctor took a seat next to Elio and shook her head. “Actually, if you are in a monogamous relationship, and both parties have tested negative for HIV on consecutive tests, we don’t recommend PrEP. It’s effective at preventing the transmission of HIV, but there are also some possible side effects, like kidney and liver problems or failure. Whenever we prescribe PrEP, we require patients to come in for regular blood and urine tests to check for normal kidney function.”

“Why would someone take PrEP if it can cause organ failure?” Elio asked. “It’s not like it’s a medicine for treating a disease.”

“True,” she said, “But it’s so effective at preventing HIV, that those at a high risk of contracting HIV are still recommended to take PrEP. It’s not a decision to take lightly. However, based on your lifestyle and your risk, I don’t think you are a candidate for PrEP.”

The couple sat together in the waiting room once more until the results of most of their tests came in, negative for both of them. They still had to wait for the blood test results, but if the clinic said they would call in five days if the tests were positive, otherwise, they were negative. Oliver told Elio that as per the doctor’s recommendations, he was going to discontinue taking PrEP.

After leaving the clinic, Oliver and Elio walked hand in hand, avoiding going back to the subway in their opposite directions.

“Is Passover really the next time I’m going to see you? That’s almost two weeks from now!” Elio said, squeezing Oliver’s hand.

“I know, but I’m taking the LSATs this Saturday, and then Sunday I’m off to Nashville for my dad’s announcement that Monday. The offer still stands to go out drinking with my LSAT class friends after the exam. I’d love for you to be there, obviously. We plan on getting totally shitfaced.”

“I don’t really want to intrude,” he said sheepishly, “but also, Marzia and I also promised Chiara we’d go to her boyfriend’s party with her.”

Oliver stopped suddenly, pressed Elio against the brick wall of the building they were standing in front of, and kissed him hungrily.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Elio asked.

“Nothing, you just looked really cute and I needed to kiss you.”

As they continued walking, Elio said, "So, after my parents' seder, you are spending the night and we are having sex."

"Do you really want to plan sex? And not just let it happen?" Oliver asked.

"Yes. You. Fucking me. In my bed. We'll have had our test results, I'm ready, you're ready, and I want you so badly." Elio was officially laying all of his cards on the table, and it felt good.

Oliver smirked and whispered in Elio's ear. "Well, then, I can't wait to fuck you. It's a date."

They kept walking toward the subway, and Oliver bent down and kissed Elio once more, softly, longingly. It occurred to Elio during the kiss that it might be the last time they get to kiss in public, possibly ever. He wrapped his arms around Oliver, holding him tightly, never wanting this kiss to end. He loved Oliver more than he’d ever thought possible. When they kissed, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world, their bodies melding as one, their souls intertwined. They finally came up for air, and Oliver said, “I need to get back home to study…”

“And I’m almost late for work…” They kissed once more, for good measure. “I love you, Oliver.”

“I love you, too, Elio,” Oliver said, heading toward the uptown track.

It occurred to Elio during his train ride home just how lucky they were to be living in New York City in 2019. No one batted an eyelash at them for kissing on the street, no one yelled any slurs, they were just two people in love, kissing on a Manhattan sidewalk. There were still so many places in the world where they couldn’t do that, but on a sidewalk in midtown, it was nothing out of the ordinary. He was thankful for their predecessors who fought for this luxury, and he made a mental note to not take this for granted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been two weeks, but I promise I haven't forgotten this story! The boys are officially in love (well, they've been in love the whole time, but now they've told each other).
> 
> Thank you to beyondbakerstreet for pointing out the side effects of PrEP - I decided it was best to include that in the story, too.
> 
> Thank you, as always, for the comments, kudos, and general support. You are all the best.


	30. Going Viral

**Saturday, April 6, 2019 - Friday April 19, 2019**

Elio and Marzia sat on the bed scratching Meatball’s belly while Chiara was live on Instagram, as she crowdsourced picking her outfit for Drew’s birthday party tonight. “Hey Marzia, Elio, what do you two think of this one?” she asked, showing a green crop top with a black skirt to her audience, and then to the two reluctant participants.

“I say go with the yellow romper,” Marzia said.

“What about you, El?” Chiara said, pushing her phone in his face.

He shyly looked down, trying to give more attention to the dog than the 1,500 people who were apparently watching Chiara choose an outfit. He was bored, and he was in the room with her. He couldn’t imagine how bored they must be. “How do you pee in a romper?”

“You mostly have to take the whole thing off,” Chiara said.

“That’s stupid. Go with the green shirt and the skirt. It’s more practical,” Elio said, as Meatball crawled into his lap. “Hello, Meatball, I love you, too. You’re a good boy, aren’t you,” Elio said in a high-pitched voice to the dog.

Chiara sat on the bed with her friends, as she read some of the comments on her feed. “Hey, Elio, a few people are commenting about how cute you are.”

He covered his face with his palm, and Meatball pawed at him to keep scratching his ears. “They want to know if you’re single,” Chiara said, raising her eyebrow.

Elio shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not single.”

Chiara scrolled through more of the comments and said, “No, he and Marzia are not together. Marzia is very much single, so if any of you know of some hot and kind of nerdy guys between 16 and 20 somewhere in the five boroughs, send them Marzia’s way!”

“KIKI!” Marzia screamed.

Once Chiara ended her stream, she put her phone in her pocket. “Thank you both for coming with me tonight,” she said.

“Of course, it’s been a while since it’s been just the three of us on a weekend,” Marzia said, applying some lip gloss.

“It won’t be just the three of us, Chiara’s got Drew,” Elio pointed out.

Chiara got up, grabbed some mousse, and put it in Elio’s hair before he had time to stop her. “It’s Drew’s party, I’ll barely have time with him.”

Elio’s phone began buzzing in his pocket, and Oliver was FaceTiming him. “Oliver’s calling, I’m going to go into the hallway…”

“Oooooh, Oliver,” Marzia said, and both she and Chiara began making kissing noises.

“Quit it!” he said, as he answered the phone in the hallway.

“Oliver! Hi!” Elio said. “How’d the LSAT go?”

“Not sure. I think it went okay. In any case, I’m done.” Oliver looked worn out and exhausted.

“Are you going out now?” Elio asked.

“Yeah, we’re about to get on the subway to go up to Columbia, and then the plan is to get as shitfaced as possible. Are you SURE you don’t want to come?”

Elio shook his head. “I mean, I do, but I don’t want to get in the way, and we’re about to head out to Drew’s birthday party.” Meatball had followed Elio into the hallway, so he picked him up. “Meatball, say hello to Oliver!”

“Puppy!” Oliver said, losing his composure. Elio was happy that he was a dog person. “Is that the dog you sent me pictures of when we first started talking?”

“One and the same.” Meatball started licking Elio’s face.

“I wish I was the one kissing you instead,” Oliver said.

“We’ll see each other soon. Go relax and have fun, you deserve it. I love you.”

Oliver blew a kiss at the camera and said, “I love you, too. I’ll talk to you later.”

* * *

Drew’s party was pretty much what Elio was expecting it to be. Despite Drew saying that his parents were letting him throw the party while they were visiting his grandparents in New Jersey, Elio wasn’t certain that they knew about it. His family had a modest two bedroom apartment in Prospect Heights, and his classmates were crammed in the living room/dining room space. Music was blasting, bass was thumping, and teenagers were bumping and grinding in the middle of the room. Drew’s brother, Justin, still lived at home - he had a full scholarship to Hunter College, and it was easier to live at home than rent an apartment in the city. Justin had procured liquor for Drew, and made himself scarce.

Chiara dragged Elio and Marzia to dance - they each refused to do so until they took another shot. Elio held each girl’s hand and spun them around at the same time. They danced until they were sweaty and needed water.

“Hey, dude, glad you could make it!” Drew said, giving him a fist bump in the kitchen.

Elio reluctantly returned the fist bump, not sure he was doing it correctly. He was not exactly a fist bumping type of teenager. “Of course! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks! I’m surprised you didn’t bring your boyfriend with you!” Drew remarked.

He shrugged. If he and Oliver were supposed to be keeping a low profile, going to a party where everyone is posting pictures on Instagram and Snapchat was not really the way to go. “He’s busy tonight, he took a big exam today, so he’s out getting drunk with his classmates. Anyway, I don’t think he’d feel comfortable at a high school party.”

“That’s why Justin is steering clear tonight, too,” Drew said. “I should go make the rounds, but it’s good to see you, Elio!”

Since Drew and Chiara had officially decided they were in a relationship, Elio was trying to be warmer to him, and it surprised him how nice Drew was. Maybe he’d misread him for all of these years. Or maybe he was learning how to open up to others who weren’t Marzia and Chiara.

Either the abundance of alcohol or his new self-confidence inspired Elio to return to the dance floor with his two best friends and enjoy his night. He texted Oliver a selfie he took with Chiara and Marzia, and Oliver responded back with a series of misspelled words and lots of emojis. Elio was sad that they weren’t together, but was glad that they were both having good nights.

* * *

“How do I look?” Oliver asked over FaceTime. He was wearing a blazer, a tie, a button-down shirt, and slim cut slacks.

Elio scrutinized the outfit and said, “Sexy as hell.”

“Not trying to go for sexy, I’m trying to go for future First Son,” Oliver said, nervously fixing his hair.

“Oliver, stop messing your hair. You look perfect. America is going to fall in love with you, like I already have,” Elio said.

“I don’t want to be on television, though. I just want to blend in with the background, I don’t people to fall in love with me. Besides you.” 

Oliver kept talking and Elio said, “Take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. You just have to stand there and look handsome while your father makes an announcement. Nothing to be nervous about.”

Suddenly, Elio heard a female’s voice. “Are you talking to Elio?” Hannah asked, as Oliver sat on the couch so she could be in the frame, too. “Hey! Are you trying to calm this nutcase down, too?” Her dark blonde tresses had a soft wave and hung over her shoulder - it appeared lighter than the last time he had seen her on FaceTime, and he assumed she’d recently gotten some blonde highlights.

Elio nodded. “I think he called me so I could talk down his nerves.”

“We need to get going to the rally, but I’ll let you two chat for another couple of minutes. Oliver, don’t even think about touching your hair, Oliver, it looks good, don’t ruin it,” Hannah said.

Oliver raised his hand to his head and Elio shouted, “Oliver, you heard Hannah! You don’t need to be nervous. Just stand there, look handsome, and stand behind your dad. You believe in him and this campaign, right?”

“Of course I do,” he responded.

“Then go out there support him,” Elio said, trying to be helpful.

He nodded, and tugged at the collar of his shirt once more. “Thanks, Elio. I can’t wait to see you on Friday.”

Elio bit his lip suggestively and said, “You mean you can’t wait to see me, or you can’t wait to fuck me?” He immediately blushed, consistently surprised by his boldness in being able to say what he wants. Until he met Oliver, he realized he didn’t even know what he wanted, and these past weeks with Oliver had been enlightening, to say the least.

“My grandmother is in the room!” Oliver whispered.

“What about your grandmother?” A voice behind Oliver shouted.

Oliver began walking around the room, his head bobbing on the screen as he moved. “I was just telling my boyfriend who I was with,” Oliver said. He handed his phone to his grandmother so she could see. Instead of holding it out on front of her face, she put the iPhone to her ear and shouted, “Hello?”

“Grandma, hold the phone in front of you. We’re FaceTiming,” Oliver said, laughing. His grandmother held the phone at a far angle and began squinting.

“Oh! I see him! He’s cute!”

Oliver took the phone from her and held it at a better angle so they could both see the screen. “Grandma, you can talk to him. He can see and hear you.”

“So you’re the nice Jewish boy with the Italian name that my grandson couldn’t stop talking about when he was visiting me,” she said.

Elio nodded and smiled. “Hi Mrs. Morgenstern, I’m Elio.” He chatted briefly with Oliver’s grandmother, mostly pleasantries and asking about how she’s feeling. Oliver soon grabbed his phone back.

“We really need to get going. Thanks for calming me down. I love you, and I’ll SEE you on Friday.”

“Love you, too,” Elio said, waiting for Oliver to disconnect the chat.

Elio left his bedroom and walked up the half a flight of stairs to the living room, where Marzia, Chiara and Drew were eating brownies that Mafalda had baked for them. Chiara and Drew were cuddled up on one end of the couch, and Marzia was sitting on the other. Elio sat on the floor, leaning against Marzia’s legs, and turned on the television, streaming the live feed from CNN.

“It’s so cool that Oliver’s going to be on television!” Chiara said. Elio wished that she hadn’t brought Drew, but she had already told him about Oliver’s situation, and he promised to keep things quiet.

“I think he’d switch places with you in a heartbeat,” Elio said. “He was just saying how nervous he is.”

Eventually, the press conference began, and Oliver and his family stood behind Oliver’s father as he announced his candidacy for president. Elio beamed with pride as he watched Oliver hold his grandmother’s arm and help her walk onto the stage. He gripped Marzia’s hand tightly, and he spent most of the conference listening to what Senator Morgenstern had to say, but staring at Oliver’s chiseled features.

“He looks so hot in that suit,” Elio said.

“How did you ever possibly think you were straight?” Marzia giggled.

He shrugged his shoulders and upturned his nose. “Dunno, I mean, I like boobs, too. But look at how handsome Oliver is.”

“Good job, dude, he looks like a model,” Drew said. “He’s really tall, so I bet that means…” he held his hands out far apart from each other.

“I see why you and Chiara get along, she said the same thing…” Elio muttered.

Elio turned his head shyly, and Chiara added, “Elio’s got no complaints.” Elio gently swatted at Chiara’s knee with the back of his hand, in a futile attempt to get her to stop talking about his sex life.

Senator Morgenstern promised to be a progressive voice of the people. He cited how his father worked his way from poverty to Harvard and eventually Congress, and how he understands the plight of the average American. He will work for better healthcare, more jobs, and will fight the social injustices targeted toward minorities and immigrants by the current administration. Oliver was right, if he wasn’t all talk, he was definitely the real deal. He silently wondered why, if he was so liberal, why Oliver had to hide his sexuality to help his campaign, but it wasn’t his battle to fight.

After the press conference, Chiara streamed some YouTube videos to the television, and they sat around snacking while they watched the videos together. Chiara idly scrolled through her Instagram feed, when she stopped and said, “Hey, El, you might want to see this…”

Elio got up from the floor and squished himself between Chiara and Marzia, taking Chiara’s phone. A video of Oliver after the rally, with a toddler on his shoulders, had gone viral. He took out his phone, and many blogs and news sites had started posting the video of Oliver as a human interest story. The rally hadn’t even been an hour ago, and already, he was making waves on the internet. Some sites were calling him “the Senator’s studly son,” one called him “the gentle giant,” and another was trying to make “the thirst son” happen, but thankfully, none of the terrible names were sticking.

In the video, a little girl, who looked to be about three, was separated from her family, so after asking if he could pick her up, Oliver took her onto the stage and lifted the girl onto his shoulders so she could look for her family in the crowd. He then held her hand and waited with her until her family came to the podium to take her.

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, but he is not going to be happy about this…” Elio said, scrolling through the pictures once more.

 

 

 

 

* * *

Friday… it was finally Friday. Elio hadn’t seen Oliver in almost two weeks, and tonight was the night that they were finally going to sleep together. Not that everything was about sex, but in this instance, Elio had been building it up in his head for so long, and he loved Oliver so much, that he couldn’t wait any longer. Sex felt like the next, right step, something that would bring him even closer to Oliver than he already was.

Oliver rang Elio’s doorbell, and Elio nearly leapt into his arms. “Should I come inside?” Oliver asked, smirking.

“Please, come in,” Elio said, still clinging onto Oliver. He dragged Oliver to the living room couch, pushed him down, and mounted his lap, kissing him hungrily. “Fuck, I missed you,” Elio said into the kiss.

“I missed you, too. Shouldn’t we be going upstairs now, though?” Oliver asked, running his hands down Elio’s back.

“No. We’re skipping the seder and going to my bedroom now,” he said, pressing his lips to Oliver’s neck. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Elio, your parents are expecting us. I’m going to sleep here tonight, I’d rather not rush things tonight, if you know what I mean.”

Elio frowned and teasingly ran his hand over Oliver’s crotch. “Fine, but immediately after dinner, I am taking you up on your offer to ravish me.”

“This is going to be the longest dinner of my life, isn’t it…” Oliver said, standing up and adjusting himself.

Oliver nervously gripped Elio’s hand as they went outside and into the main Perlman residence.

“Maman, Papa, we’re here,” Elio shouted up the stairs.

“Come on in!” Sammy said, walking downstairs to greet the boys at the door. “Oliver, it’s so nice to see you again!” Before Oliver could object, Sammy had pulled him into a tight hug.

Oliver handed a gift bag to Sammy. “I wanted to bring wine, but my mother suggested bringing a taste of home. I bought this when I was in Tennessee earlier in the week, it’s bourbon that’s made in this tiny distillery outside of Nashville. It’s potent, but it’s really high quality stuff.”

Sammy took the bottle of bourbon out of the bag and examined it. “This looks excellent, thank you!”

Elio escorted Oliver into the dining room, where Mafalda had put out his grandfather’s Passover china and silverware (even though the family did not keep Kosher for Passover), and had set the table with a fancy linen tablecloth. They were clearly trying to impress Oliver as much as Oliver was trying to impress them.

After Elio introduced Oliver to his Zia Mafalda and Zio Manfredi, Annella instructed everyone to take a seat at the table. Elio and Oliver sat next to each other at one end of the table, and Annella began distributing the Haggadot.

“Seriously, Maman? Are we really doing this?” Elio asked. The family never actually had a religious seder - they usually just made some matzah ball soup and called it a night.

Annella nodded and placed down three pieces of matzah on a plate in the middle of the table, taking the middle piece and breaking it into two. “Your father will hide the afikomen,” she said.

Before they read from the Haggadah to begin the seder, Mafalda poured each of them, including Elio, a glass of Kosher wine. The Perlman family ran through a quick, modified version of the Passover seder. They had to check their phones and the Haggadah a few times to make sure they remembered everything they wanted to hit, since they hadn’t had an actual seder since Elio was in junior high.

“Elio, It’s your turn to read the Four Questions,” Mafalda noted.

Elio grunted. As an only child in a house of adults, he was used to being the baby, so that always meant he was reading the Four Questions, except for the one year they had a seder with Isaac and Mounir - their daughter Natalia, who is a year younger than Elio, had the responsibility that year, to Elio’s delight.

“I’m eighteen, so I really have to do this? I thought it was reserved for children?”

“You’ll always be my little baby. Read the questions,” Annella instructed.

Elio flipped to the correct page and sang the questions to the tune he remembered from Hebrew school, in both Hebrew and English.

Soon, they went through the list of plagues, dipping their pinkies in their wine glasses and leaving a drop of wine on their plates for each of the ten plagues.

“Hey, Oliver, you and Zia Mafalda would be the only survivors of the killing of the firstborn,” Elio joked.

Oliver shook his head. “No, I think I’d have been a goner, too, but your mother was probably safe. Wasn’t it just the firstborn sons? Women didn’t count in the Bible…” Oliver surmised.

Sammy interjected, “Actually, we’d have all survived, the Israelites all painted their doors with lambs’ blood so their families were safe. But Oliver is correct, I believe it was only a slaughter of the firstborn sons.”

“What a cheerful holiday,” Elio murmured.

They finished the rest of the seder, rushing to sing “Dayenu,” so Mafalda could serve the first dish, matzah ball soup. Earlier in the day, Elio had helped his mother and aunt make the matzah balls, so he was excited to see how it turned out.

“So, Oliver, Elio said that you’re a junior at Columbia. What are you studying?” Annella asked.

“Philosophy, but I’m also pre-law, maybe. I took the LSATs last weekend,” Oliver said.

“That’s impressive,” Sammy said. “Why study philosophy, and not political science or economics?”

Oliver took a sip of his wine. “The original plan was to major in polysci, but I’m doing a minor instead. I took an introduction to philosophy course my freshman year, and I loved it. It delves into all of these fundamental questions of the universe and what we consider to be right and wrong. It’s like nothing else I’ve ever studied.”

“Philosophy is a great subject to study before law school, it gives you a different perspective on the law,” Sammy said.

“That’s how I sold it to my parents, who wanted me to double major in economics and political science. It was the first time I’ve ever really gotten to make a decision about my education, besides going to Columbia, and I had to fight my family hard on that, because they wanted me to go to Harvard like the rest of my family.”

“Harvard’s an excellent school, but so is Columbia, they couldn’t have actually had that much of a problem with it, could they?” Annella asked.

“I mean… in the end, it worked out. I’ll hopefully be Phi Beta Kappa and graduate Magna Cum Laude, and then they’ll see to it that I go to Harvard Law like my sister, and my father, and my grandfather.”

Sammy took a big mouthful of soup and began speaking once he had swallowed. “This sounds like quite the predicament. Following the academic path you desire, or fulfilling your family’s wishes.”

“More familial obligation than anything else. I know it makes me sound like a spoiled rich kid, complaining about not wanting to go to Harvard Law,” Oliver sighed.

“No, it’s difficult when your family has such high expectations for you, and you don’t want to follow that path. My own parents wanted me to go to medical school, but at least they were able to say I became a doctor,” Sammy said with a chuckle. “If you don’t want to go to law school, what do you want to do after graduation?”

Oliver scratched his head, deep in thought. “For the past few years, I’ve dreamt about getting a PhD in philosophy, and becoming a professor. Elio says that you’ve been happy working in academia.”

“I love it. Teaching has been extremely fulfilling, and I really enjoy going to Europe each summer to do research for my next book or textbook.”

“I don’t think I’d get that same enjoyment out of a career in law or politics. They want my sister and me to follow in my grandfather’s and father’s footsteps and run for office one day. But that requires a lot of personal sacrifices, more than the ones I’m currently making, and I don’t know if I’m willing to do that,” Oliver said. Elio reached over and grabbed his hand, running his thumb over Oliver’s knuckles.

“Elio’s told us about that,” Annela said sadly. “We obviously will continue to use extreme discretion, and we’re very sorry that you have to hide your true self.”

“His parents love him and support him,” Elio said. “It’s his dad’s staff advisors who think it would hurt his dad’s campaign.”

Sammy sat in silence for a moment, finishing off the rest of his soup, and then raised his hand in the air with his index finger outstretched. “Have you ever considered applying for a JD-PhD program?” Oliver shook his head no, looking slightly confused. “Some universities with law schools have joint law school and PhD programs, where you submatriculate into both the law school and the PhD program of your choice. They’re extremely selective and difficult to get into, as you have to be accepted by both the PhD program and the law school, and it would take seven to eight years, but then you’d graduate with both a law degree and a PhD. NYU has a program like that, and I’m sure Harvard does as well.”

Oliver’s jaw dropped. “This is a real thing? How did I not know about this?”

“I actually think that you’d be able to make a good argument that combining the study of philosophy and law would give you a more nuanced understanding of how to interpret the law and understand how we write laws,” Sammy pointed out. “The philosophy of constitutional law, or something to that effect, could make a very interesting dissertation.”

Oliver squeezed Elio’s hand tightly, looking happier than he’d ever looked when discussing school. “This might be exactly the route I’ve been looking for! I can get the law degree my parents want me to get, while studying the field I want to study! I don’t actually hate law, I just don’t want to be a lawyer or go into politics. But this way, I’d have the option if I change my mind….”

Elio smiled warmly at Oliver. He knew that suggesting that Oliver talk to his father was the right decision. This night was going to be life-changing for the both of them.

Before Mafalda served the pot roast, Annella instructed that Elio and Oliver should search the house for the afikomen, and that there was a prize for the person who found it. Elio raced Oliver into the living room, and they began tearing the room apart. When they were not in the line of sight of the dining room, Elio grabbed Oliver and kissed him deeply. “Are you trying to distract me from finding the afikomen? Because I will beat you, I am very competitive,” Oliver said.

“No, I’ve just been wanting to do that all dinner,” Elio said. He then spotted a piece of cloth on the edge of the top shelf of the bookcase across the room. Oliver spotted it as well, and raced Elio, handily beating him, reaching it with easy.

“Got it!” Oliver shouted, and they brought it back into the room. Sammy went into a closet and took out the prize, a copy of Sammy’s last book.

Elio laughed hysterically, saying, “You didn’t have a prize, did you?”

Over the pot roast, Oliver commented that he had so much more to think about now that graduate school was a realistic option and not a pipe dream.

“I’m glad I don’t have to worry about graduate school for a long time,” Elio said.

Oliver raised his eyebrow. “Oh? Are you not going to go to grad school right away?”

“No, he just has to worry about getting into college first,” Annella said.

“Hey! I’m not worried about getting into college. I’ll definitely get into NYU, since I have a 4.0, and Papa’s a big shot over there. I do have to worry about what I’m going to play at my Juilliard audition next year, though,” Elio said. “Oliver, I think I’ve played you the Liszt I’ve been working on.”

Sammy spoke with his mouth full of potato. “I still think you should be prioritizing universities with excellent music schools that have other programs besides music, in case you change your mind. Like Peabody at Johns Hopkins, or the Oberlin Conservatory, or Yale.”

“Juilliard’s been my top choice since I was a kid, I’m not giving up on that dream now,” Elio said. “You don’t want me to stay in New York?”

“We just want you to be happy, darling,” Annella said.

Throughout this entire discussion, Oliver remained silent. He and Elio had never really talked about what their future would look like in a year and a half, when Oliver graduates from college and Elio graduates from high school. Elio didn’t really want to think about that, either.

* * *

After dessert, Oliver gave each adult in the family a hug, and thanked them for such a wonderful dinner. “This was really nice, thank you,” Oliver said to Annella.

“It was lovely having you. We hope to see you here more often. Our son thinks the world of you, and you seem to have a good head on your shoulders,” Annella said.

“Maman!” Elio said, burying his face in Oliver’s shoulders. Oliver took a step back, acting strangely cold toward Elio. “We’re going to go downstairs now, buona notte!”

Elio led Oliver back toward his apartment, and once they were inside with the door closed, he wrapped his arms around Oliver’s waist, excited for what the night held. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” Elio said, holding Oliver tightly. Oliver gently pushed Elio away.

“I… no…” Oliver said, flustered. He paced around the living room, taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

“Is everything okay? I’m not pressuring you, am I?” Elio asked, sitting next to Oliver, placing his hand on his upper back.

Oliver took a deep breath, putting his head in his hands, digging his elbows into this thighs. “You.. you’re in high school?”

“Yes, of course I’m in high school. I go to Brooklyn Prep, remember? I talk about it all the time, you came skating with some of my classmates and you’ve met my only two friends from school,” Elio said. He was very confused.

“No… you go to NYU. I saw you at your art class… you’re a music major…” he said.

Elio shook his head. “No, I’m a junior at Brooklyn Prep. I take classes at NYU because my high school doesn’t have advanced enough classes for me, and the courses at NYU are free because my dad teaches there. Oliver, you know all of this, I’ve told you… Why are you suddenly surprised?”

“You’re a JUNIOR?” Oliver exclaimed. He stood up, and began pacing around the room.

“Yeah, remember, I had to repeat the fifth grade because my depression was really bad when we moved here, and my parents pulled me out of public school.”

“Okay, I knew that, but I just thought… you were a freshman at NYU…” he said, walking back and forth, staring at the floor. “Are you really eighteen?”

“Yes!” Elio said, tears welling up in his eyes. “Do you want to see my passport? I turned eighteen in January.”

“We’ve done nothing illegal, nothing that could be held against me or potentially against my father…” Oliver said, looking at his hands and feet nervously.

Elio patted the couch next to him and said, “Oliver, sit down. Take some deep breaths.”

“Is there anything else that you’re hiding from me?” Oliver asked.

“I’m not hiding anything from you! I’ve never hidden anything from you! I thought you knew that I was in high school! I’ve never lied to you about anything, and I have nothing to hide. Here, want to go through my phone? My emails? I love you, Oliver, I would never do anything to hurt you,” Elio said, as he began to cry.

“I thought you were in college…” Oliver repeated a few times. “I… I think I need to go home tonight.”

Elio stood up and grabbed Oliver’s hand. “No, stay the night. We don’t have to have sex, we can just sleep.”

“No, I think I need some time to think about this,” Oliver said.

“Think about what? I love you,” Elio said. “I’ve never loved anyone before, never been with anyone before. I think you realize that what we have, this connection, this is special.”

Oliver took Elio’s hand. “I do realize that. But this changes things. My God, your parents, they must think I’m so predatory…”

“They don’t! They really liked you!” Elio said. “They realize that I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions about who I want to be with. They support us! And you dated someone in college when you were in high school, what’s the difference?”

He sighed and said, “We always had a weird power dynamic. I always felt like I had to do things for him, and that I was never good enough because I was so much younger. I don’t want you to feel that way.”

“I don’t!” Elio pleaded.

“I just need a few days to process this, okay?” Oliver said softly. “I do love you, and I’ve never met anyone like you before. I just need a little time to myself.”

“How much time?” Elio asked. “Are we… is this it? Are we over?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, we're not over. I’ll call or text you in a few days, okay?”

Elio gulped, trying to swallow the tears he was holding back. “Okay. If I did something wrong, please let me know? I’m sorry, I don’t ever want to upset you or hurt you. I’ve only ever been honest and been myself.”

Oliver grabbed his backpack and his coat, and Elio followed him to the door. “I know I’m saying this a lot, but I really fucking love you, Oliver.” He got on his tiptoes and gently kissed Oliver’s lips. Oliver returned the kiss chastely.

“I’ll talk to you in a few days,” he said wistfully. Elio watched as he walked out the door and rounded the corner.

Elio went into his bedroom, stripped off his clothes, and laid in bed in his boxers, clutching Oliver’s Columbia shirt. He began crying uncontrollably, unable to process what had just happened. Did they just have their first fight? They weren’t broken up, but were they still together? Now that he’d experienced Oliver in his life, he was unwilling to give him up. Through the tears, Elio decided that he was going to fight for Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long - I was on vacation and had a ton of work to catch up on!
> 
> I think I explained most of the Passover things in the story, but let me know if you need me to explain something that wasn't that clear! I imagine that the Perlmans are incredibly secular, and do a half-assed version of Jewish traditions, which is what I tried to embody with this.
> 
> I'm just going to say, for those of you upset with how this chapter ends, just remember something I said about the piano a few chapters ago... this is definitely not the end of Oliver and Elio.
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support!


	31. Cut the Histrionics

**Saturday, April 20, 2019 - Friday, April 26, 2019**  

 

 

 

 

Elio still hadn't gotten out of bed when he heard the doorbell ring half an hour later. He ignored it, putting the pillow over his ears. For the next five minutes, Marzia kept ringing the doorbell incessantly, occasionally to the rhythm of various songs. This was getting to be really, really annoying. Maybe the doorbell would short circuit soon When the doorbell stopped ringing, his phone started buzzing. He kept rejecting Marzia's calls, so she started ringing the doorbell again. But, just when he thought she'd never stop, he finally had some silence.

He flopped onto his back and threw his blanket over his face. Other than using the bathroom, he had no intention of getting out of this bed today. He'd had his heart ripped out of his chest last night by the only person he'd ever loved, and Elio felt like he'd never recover. Suddenly, he felt his blanket being pulled off of him. Marzia was standing above him.

"Go away," he said, turning into his stomach and putting his head under his pillow. Marzia grabbed the pillow and threw it on the floor.

"Get up, the last time you were like this, you couldn't get out of bed for a week. I'm going to help you. Unless you want me to get your mom," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

"I'm not having a depressive episode. I don't need my mom. Leave me alone. I just want to be alone."

"Then what's wrong? Have you taken your medication today?" she asked.

He grunted loudly. "No, I'm not getting out of bed. Why does everyone always assume that when something is wrong, it's depression or my meds? Am I not allowed to be sad?"

Marzia didn't answer him, and instead walked out of the room. She came back a moment later with Elio's bottle of pills and a glass of water. "Even if you're sad, you need to take your medication, Elio. I'm not having sex right now, it doesn't mean I've stopped taking my birth control pills."

Elio opened the bottle, took out a pill, then grabbed the glass from Marzia and took his medication. "There, are you happy? How did you get in here, anyway?"

Marzia pulled a keychain out of her pocket. "I rang your parents' bell, and said I left something here that I needed for school, but you weren't home. Your mom gave me the key. I didn't want to worry her. Yet." She began rubbing his back. "What's wrong? Did something happen with Oliver?" Marzia was his best friend, she was able to intuit more about him than anyone else besides his mother.

He nodded, and began sniffling again. "H-h-he broke up with me last night..." he finally managed to get out.

"What? Why? What happened? I'll go up to Columbia and murder the bastard."

Elio recounted the events of the previous night. "We were going to have sex for the first time last night, but then he broke up with me."

"El, I don't think he actually broke up with you," Marzia said, squeezing his shoulder.

"What? Yes he did."

"You said he told you he needed to go home and needed a few days by himself, but that he'd talk to you in a few days. I think he's just processing what happened."

Elio rubbed tears from his eyes. "Do you really think so? Should I text him? I love him, Martz. I love him so much. I don't think I can live without him."

"Cut the histrionics for one second. Let's just try to understand this from his perspective, okay?" He nodded. "Now, did you ever explicitly say to him, 'I'm a junior at Brooklyn Prep'?"

"No. But I've told him about my classes and our classmates and things like that."

"Were they all in the present tense?"

Elio shrugged. What was she getting at here?

"And he was the model at your art class at NYU?" Marzia said.

"Mmhmm."

"And you have your own apartment."

"In my parents' house, that I only live in because my uncle couldn't walk the stairs to the bathroom in the middle of the night, so we switched rooms. Which means I sleep in the garden apartment now," he said defensively.

"Think about this from Oliver's view. He met a cute boy at a bookstore. A few days later, he saw you at your college class. He came to your apartment a couple of times, where you ostensibly live alone. Are you connecting the dots here?" Marzia said slowly.

"He... He thought I was in college, and nothing I said or did ever went against that belief until yesterday..." Elio realized.

"Bingo."

"But why would he get so angry?" Elio asked.

Marzia shook her head. "That I don't know. He was a jerk. He owes YOU an apology, you did nothing wrong here. But I really don't think you're broken up. Do you still want to be with him?"

Elio put his head on Marzia's lap and curled into a fetal position. She idly began playing with his hair. "More than anything. I love him. He loved me. I don't think I'll ever be happy without him."

"You are more of a drama queen than Chiara. Maybe you should be the lead of the school play." He began crying again. "Elio, I was joking. I know how much you love him, and how much you must be hurting."

Elio reached over to his nightstand and began to text Oliver. Marzia pulled his phone from his hand. "No. Give him a day or two to cool down. You did nothing wrong, but if you reach out while he's still irrationally angry, it might do more damage. Text him on Monday. Let him apologize to you, but let him know you're there when he wants to talk about what happened. But you, under no circumstance, should apologize to him. Let him realize what he'd be losing."

"But we text all day, every day. I want to talk to him. Let me try to FaceTime him, then. I want to hear his voice, and see him."

"Elio, he asked for a few days. Clearly there's something bigger going on. Let him have the weekend. Then you can call him, and if he's still a jerk, I'll talk to my cousin Sal, who is 'not' , but almost definitely is, in the mafia, and I can ask him to make Oliver disappear. Or at least pay for the pain he's caused you."

Elio yelped out in shock. "Marzia! I don't want anything bad to happen to him! I just want him to be my boyfriend again, I want him in my bed. I want him to hold me and kiss me and tell me he's sorry and that he's never going to leave me. I feel like we're in limbo right now, and it's making me feel dizzy."

"I think it's your smell that's making you feel dizzy. Please go shower and brush your teeth? Self care can help you feel better. Remember when Ethan dumped me? Getting my hair done and a mani pedi with Chiara really helped."

Elio sat up once more, and rubbed his eyes. "I don't wanna get out of bed. Can you just let me wallow? Just let me be sad."

Marzia stood up and began tugging at Elio's arm to get him to stand up. "C'mon, get up. I'm not going to let you be alone today. Go shower, and I'll figure out food for you. I heard your stomach rumbling. And no, you cannot get back in bed."

"Fine," Elio relented. He left his bedroom, wearing only his boxer shorts, and took a long, hot shower.

He went back into his room, put on Oliver's Columbia shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and went into the living room, where Marzia was waiting for him.

"Don't you feel better now?" she asked.

"No. I feel like someone took every ounce of happiness that I was ever going to have in my life and fed it through a paper shredder, dumped that into an incinerator, and then scattered the ashes in the East River while I was forced to watch."

He sat next to Marzia on the couch, who handed him a piece of toast slathered with Nutella. "Eat this, please."

Elio begrudgingly ate the toast that Marzia made for him. "Thanks, Martz. I needed the food."

Elio's doorbell rang, and Marzia jumped up to answer it. Marzia's ex-boyfriend Ethan's best friend, Jimmy Tsang, was at the door. They walked inside and closed the door. Marzia took out her phone. "Do you want cash, or can I Venmo you?"

"Venmo is fine," he said, and he handed her a couple of small plastic bags. Jimmy left and Marzia joined Elio on the couch.

"What was that about?" Elio asked, already pretty sure of the answer.

Marzia handed him a bag of edibles that she'd bought from Jimmy. "You and I are going to get stoned off of our asses, watch some _Rick and Morty_ , and eat as much pizza as humanly possible. That'll help you take your mind off of everything. If nothing else, we’re celebrating 4/20.”

"But I don't want to forget about Oliver, or celebrate anything. If the pain I'm feeling is all I'll have left to remember him, then I don't want the pain to go away."

"That sounds like a sadistic and butchered version of advice your dad would give you. Now, are you in, or should we save this for another day?"

Elio shrugged, debating the options. "I'm not getting rid of you today, am I?"

"No. I'm not leaving your side. You're sad, and I want to help. We don't have to get high."

"No, that actually sounds relaxing. Give me one," he said, reaching for the bag.

After a trip to the bodega on the corner to buy as much junk food as humanly possible, Marzia and Elio took their edibles and plunked down on the couch to watch television.

* * *

 

A few hours later, Elio laid with his head on Marzia's lap, as they finished off the first of two pizza pies they ordered. The doorbell rang, and Marzia shouted, "I'll get that."

Annella was at the door. "Hi, Mrs. P!" Marzia said between giggles.

"Everything okay down here? You never brought the key back so I just wanted to see if everything was all right..."

"Oh, shoot, I'm sorry!" Marzia said, reaching into her pocket and handing Annella the keychain. The bag of edibles fell out, and Marzia and Elio both started to laugh.

"We're fine, Maman, you can go back upstairs." Marzia went back to the couch and sat next to Elio.

Annella covered her forehead and eyes with her palm. "You two just stay careful, okay? Maybe stay in the house until whatever that is wears off?"

"It's just pot," Elio said, burying his head on Marzia's shoulder.

"I wasn't born yesterday, mon cherie."

"I don't ever want this to wear off. If it goes away, then I'm back with my own thoughts, and I'll be thinking about Oliver again and then it'll all hurt even more."

Annella walked to the couch and sat on Elio's other side. "Oliver? What happened, dear?"

"Probably nothing, they got into a fight after your seder last night. Oliver had a misunderstanding and accused Elio of lying about something, which Elio didn't do. Elio thought that Oliver had broken up with him, but I don't think that's the case." Marzia explained, so Elio didn't need to.

"Come here, sweetheart. Why didn't you come talk to me? You know your father and I are here."

"I know, but dinner with Oliver went so well, and then he left so quickly after, and I was just really upset. I didn't want to get out of bed today but Marzia came over to help me."

Annella nodded at Marzia, silently thanking her. She wrapped her arm around her son, and let Elio softly sob on her shoulder as she rubbed his back.

"Will you be joining us for dinner tonight, Marzia? I see you have enough pizza to feed a small army, but we're having Passover leftovers, if you're interested."

"Mafalda's matzah ball soup and pot roast? That sounds amazing."

Annella stood up and walked to the door. "Perhaps don't take any more of that until after dinner? Your great aunt is not as... accepting and liberal of marijuana... as your father and I are."

"Maman, I know that you and papa aren't smoking cigarettes in the backyard when you're out there. I think Zia Mafalda knows, too."

Annella's cheeks turned pink. "I'll call you when dinner is ready. See you later, love. Ciao, Marzia."

Once Annella was upstairs, Marzia couldn’t stop laughing. “That wasn’t embarrassing at all… I don’t think your mom has ever caught us getting high before…”

“Oh, she definitely knows. My parents know everything. Sometimes it’s just easier to pretend that they don’t.”

* * *

The next day, Elio sat quietly between his parents on the Staten Island Ferry. He kept checking his phone to see if Oliver had texted, but he decided he would text him tonight if he still hadn’t heard anything. He was still inconsolably sad, and was pretending to put on a happy face for his parents’ sake. Elio assumed Annella could sense how upset he still was, as she kept rubbing his back and squeezing his arm, and said nothing when he wore his Chuck Taylors with his suit.

The Perlmans were on their way to Marzia’s father’s house for her family’s Easter celebration. They were invited every year, though some years Elio went without his parents. He was secretly happy they were going with him today, because they’d be able to occupy him and keep his mind off of Oliver.

Marzia’s father lived with her nonna on Staten Island, where most of her extended family lived. Easter with the Giordano family was usually a loud and joyful event, and this morning, Elio hadn’t been sure that he was up for that much social interaction. He tried to get out of going, but his father insisted that it was too late to cancel.

“You look so handsome and grown up,” Professor Perlman said to Elio on the Giordanos’ porch, while Annella fixed his hair and straightened his collar.

“Come in!” Marzia’s father announced, escorting the Perlmans, Mafalda and Manfredi into the large house. The house was already crowded with Marzia’s aunts and uncles, cousins, and other family Elio only sort of recognized. Several small children were running around screaming at each other. “Marzia’s in the backyard,” Elio was told, and he quickly went off to find her.

“How are you feeling?” Marzia asked, after giving him a hug.

“I’ve been better,” he admitted. “My parents forced me to come today.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. You save me from dealing with them,” she said, pointing at a group of children running around the backyard searching for eggs. “That way I don’t have to listen to Tina, Gina, Gina Marie and Gianna fighting over who found which egg first. C’mon, let’s go inside.”

As was expected, Mafalda immediately went to the kitchen and offered her help to Marzia’s father. Elio and Marzia sat on the living room couch, and were soon joined by Marzia’s nonna. They spoke with her in Italian.

“Elio! How wonderful to see you!” Nonna exclaimed.

“Signora Giordano, thank you so much for having us,” he said, kissing her cheek.

They made small talk - her nonna asked about school, about his music, and eventually, about his dating life. “So, Elio, when are you and Marzia finally going to get together?”

“Nonna! Elio is my best friend, we are not going to date! How many times do I have to tell you that?” Marzia shouted.

“What? He’s good-looking and smart, you’re good-looking and smart, and you clearly love each other. What’s the hold up? You aren’t with that obnoxious Ethan anymore,” her nonna said, holding Marzia’s wrist.

Marzia began laughing. “Elio and I do not want to date each other. Anyway, he’s very happily with someone else.”

“I’m still not one hundred percent sure we’re still together, though… I still haven’t heard anything…” Elio said, looking down at his phone again.

“Oh! I didn’t know you had a girlfriend! You could have brought her today!” Nonna happily said.

Elio shook his head, and looked at Marzia, trying to gauge her reaction. Marzia nodded. “Actually, I have a boyfriend. I think. I’m not sure if we’re still together. We had a fight on Friday and he said he needed a few days to cool off.”

“Elio, you are still together. He’s going to apologize, and everything will be hunky dory. I promise.”

“What if he doesn’t want to be with me anymore? What am I going to do? I don’t think I’ll ever recover,” Elio whined, squeezing Marzia’s hand.

Marzia turned to face Elio. “You will recover. You’ll come out of this stronger. And you’ll find a guy or a girl who is hotter, smarter, and better than him. But I think this is just a small fight and by tomorrow you’ll be laughing about it.”

Nonna began digesting the information. “Oh… well, you are wonderful, dear, and if a small fight is what it takes to end things, then your boyfriend is an idiot, because you are wonderful. You’re a catch, and anyone would be lucky to date you. If you give me his phone number, I can give him a talking to.”

Elio began to laugh, and Marzia put her hand on her grandmother’s shoulder. “That’s kind to offer, but I think Elio can fight his own battles.”

“You have plenty of people who love you, Elio. Just remember that,” Nonna added.

Later, when everyone was outside enjoying their meal, Elio’s phone buzzed. He quickly looked down, hopeful that it was from Oliver. Instead, it was an Instagram message from Howie.

 

 

Elio went looking for a quiet space, but Marzia’s house was packed to the brim with her loud relatives and screaming children. He decided to lock himself in the bathroom to make the call. He dialed Oliver’s number, and his stomach began tying itself into nervous knots.

“Hello?” Oliver’s voice registered with barely a whisper. It was hoarse, and sounded like he’d been crying.

“Oliver! Hi!” Elio said, wishing they were in the same room.

Oliver took a deep breath, and stuttered before he began speaking. “I… I want to apologize for what I said on Friday… but I don’t think I should do it on the phone. This is the kind of apology that needs to happen in person.”

Elio sighed softly to himself, still waiting for the “but” to follow Oliver’s sentence. “Oliver, it’s okay… I forgive you. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Elio,” he whispered into the phone.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the bathroom. “What’s taking so long in there? I need to take a leak!” Marzia’s uncle Vito shouted.

“Just one more minute,” Elio shouted back. “I need to go soon,” he said to Oliver.

“Where are you?” Oliver laughed. It was so good to hear him laugh.

“I’m at Marzia’s dad’s house for their annual Easter party. Her family is… rambunctious.”

“I’ll let you get back to the party. I’ll text you later and we’ll figure out when we can see each other?”

Elio held his hand against his chest, and could feel his heart racing. “One quick question. Are… are we still together?” Elio asked.

Vito banged against the door again. “Do you still want to be with me after what I did?” Oliver asked sadly.

“More than anything. I still want to be your boyfriend, if you still want to be mine…”

“Hurry the fuck up!” Vito yelled. “Figure out your relationship drama somewhere else besides the john!”

Elio and Oliver both laughed loudly. “Of course I still want to be your boyfriend. You should probably leave the bathroom before he knocks the door down. I’ll text you tonight, I need to do the homework I’ve been neglecting all weekend.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

He walked out of the bathroom, and Vito pushed him out of the way to run inside and slam the door. Elio felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He and Oliver were still together. He probably let Oliver off the hook too easily, but he didn’t care, because he couldn’t lose him. In any case, Oliver said he wanted to apologize in person, and Elio definitely wanted to hear what he had to say. But they weren’t broken up, and that was all that mattered to him in the moment. Oliver was still his boyfriend. He was still Oliver’s boyfriend. They were still a couple. Why was he so worried yesterday?

Elio found his mother and father sitting together on a couch, sipping wine from pastel colored plastic cups - this Easter party was a classy affair, after all. He squished himself between his parents, and nuzzled his head on his mother’s shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“You seem chipper,” Professor Perlman noted.

“I’m just happy,” Elio said. “I’m feeling a lot better.”

Marzia made eye contact with him from across the room, and gave him a thumbs up, then a thumbs down sign, trying to gauge what had just happened. Elio grinned and responded with a thumbs up.

* * *

When Elio got back to the brownstone with his family that evening, he was getting impatient. Oliver hadn’t returned his texts about when they were going to see each other, and all he wanted wanted was to hug Oliver and tell him that he loved him and forgave him. He kissed his parents and aunt and uncle good night, and instead of going into the garden apartment, he headed right back out, toward the subway. He was going to surprise Oliver, and show up at his apartment.

It took nearly an hour to get to Morningside Heights. Oliver’s doorman recognized him and let him go up to the apartment. Elio rang the doorbell, wondering what he was even going to say to Oliver. Instead, Howie answered the door.

“Elio, hi! What are you doing here?” Howie asked, scratching his head.

“I… I wanted to surprise Oliver. Is he here?” Elio asked.

Howie frowned. This wasn’t a good sign. “He left a couple of hours ago. His parents have a fundraising event in Connecticut tomorrow, so they surprised him and took him out to dinner. I think he’s spending the night at his grandmother’s house. He’s probably in Greenwich by now.”

“Fuck!” Elio muttered to himself. “So I came all the way up here for nothing?”

“I mean, not nothing… you can watch _Game of Thrones_ with us, if you want to…” Howie offered. “Jill is here.”

“Hi Elio!” she shouted from the living room.

Elio shook his head. “No, it’s okay, this was a stupid idea anyway…”

“Why don’t you come inside, have a glass of water or something, and calm down?” Howie suggested.

Elio stepped inside, took the glass of water that Howie poured for him, and chugged it quickly. “Was he… is he okay now?”

“If by okay, you mean he showered and shaved, and is willing to talk to us again, yes. I think he’s still a bit shaken, but he seemed better after you two spoke,” Howie offered.

“I’m going to go to Oliver’s room for a few minutes, if that’s okay…” Elio said.

He went to Oliver’s room, sat on the bed, and thought about what to do. He grabbed a piece of paper from a notebook on Oliver’s desk, and began scribbling a note.

_**I stopped by so we could talk. I miss you. I love you.** _

Below the note, he drew a picture of a poodle. He left the note on Oliver’s pillow.

After pacing around the room a few more times, he went back into the living room. “Thanks for the offer to stay, but I should probably get back home, anyway… I’ll hopefully see you both soon…”

* * *

Elio slept in on Monday, as he was off of school for the week for Spring Break. Marzia was on her way to Boston with her mother to tour some colleges, and Chiara was in Florida with her parents. When he woke up, he had a voicemail from Oliver.

“Hey Elio. Howie told me you stopped by. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. My parents stopped by unexpectedly, and now I’ve been swept up in campaign and fundraising duties. I’ll be back home late on Thursday. Thankfully my professors have let me Skype into my classes. If it’s okay with you, I’ll come over on Friday afternoon. Once again, I’m so sorry that I’m gone this week, but my dad needs me. I’m not sure how available I’ll be this week - they sometimes take my phone away during meetings and events. I’ll see you on Friday, where I can apologize in person and hopefully we can move past my bad temper and terrible judgement. I love you, Poodle.”

* * *

Though he’d texted with Oliver periodically during the week, Elio was still a nervous wreck on Friday. What if Oliver wanted to see him in person so he could break up with him? What if he didn’t want to be with him anymore? Elio couldn’t shake these negative thoughts.

He sat at the piano and practiced the few pieces he was working on. When he’d finally gotten into a good headspace, the doorbell rang. He jumped off of the bench, and ran to the door to answer it.

“Hey,” Oliver said, standing in the doorway, his head almost hitting the top of the doorframe.

“Hi…” Elio said, maintaining eye contact. “What are you standing out here for? Come inside…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed drama queen Elio - that was incredibly fun to write. Sorry this chapter took so long - I had a hard time making a few things work in this chapter, but I'm happy with how it turned out.
> 
> Oliver will be grovelling and begging for forgiveness in the next chapter, don't worry. Elio's not THAT much of a pushover... Also, the next chapter has the reunion you've probably all been waiting for since this story started.
> 
> Thank you all for your comments on the last chapter!


	32. Best Night of My Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: This chapter is very NSFW :)

_**Friday, April 26, 2019** _

Elio looked up at Oliver, after he locked the front door. “You’re really here.”

“I’m really here.” Oliver followed Elio to the living room couch.

As they sat down, Elio wrapped his arms around Oliver’s middle, holding him tightly. “I thought I’d lost you,” he said, as he started sobbing.

Oliver wiped Elio’s tears with his thumb. “You thought you lost me? I thought **I’d** fucked everything up. I’m a jackass.”

“I know,” Elio said, with a chuckle. “You were a jackass. But you’re my jackass, and I didn’t want things to end that way.” He paused, and added, “I don’t want them to end at all.”

Oliver took Elio’s hand, and squeezed it. “Elio, I’m so sorry. I never should have stormed out like that, or accused you of lying. You deserve better. If you’ll still have me, I want to be better. For you.”

Elio frowned. He loved Oliver more than he was able to verbally or physically express. He knew he was supposed to let Oliver beg and plead, but he didn’t want to play games. He just wanted to be in his arms. The thought of losing him for good hurt more than any of the pain he’d experienced this week, and it wasn’t worth it. One fight was not worth losing Oliver forever. “Of course I still want you. I love you.” He nestled against Oliver’s body, resting his back against Oliver’s chest, and grabbed Oliver’s arms to wrap around his waist. “Hold me,” Elio instructed, while he stretched his legs along the couch.

Oliver held him silently for a minute or two, resting his chin on top of Elio’s head. “I know you’ve never lied to me or misled me. I was an idiot.”

“I know.” Elio wasn’t going to deny the obvious, if Oliver was saying it.

“Why are you letting me off the hook this easily? Not that I’m complaining.”

Elio sighed loudly, and placed his hands over Oliver’s as they sat on the couch. “Because I love you. Because there’s no one I’d rather be with. Because couples fight. I’ve never been in a relationship before, how long am I supposed to stay mad at you?”

“If you **were**  still mad, I’d understand. You have every right. But I’m so, so, so sorry. I never want to hurt you.”

Elio pulled Oliver’s arms around him even tighter, and he turned his head to kiss Oliver’s cheek. “I’m not mad anymore. I was hurt, but I’m okay now, because you’re here, and we’re together, and this is behind us. And I know that you’re actually sorry.”

Oliver nuzzled against Elio, and began rubbing his arm. “A few hours after I got home, I realized what a moron I was, but I thought it was too late, and I was avoiding the inevitable of confirming that you wanted to end things. It was selfish and immature of me not to call you that night.”

“I wish you had, I was a wreck on Saturday. Marzia had to rescue me. I hear you locked yourself in your room all weekend.”

He bowed his head sheepishly. “I did. I thought I didn’t have you anymore, and nothing else seemed to matter. You and I, we both have really good friends. I can’t believe Howie reached out to you like that.”

“I’m glad he did. I think we’re both too similar and too headstrong, who knows how long we both would have waited to call otherwise…” Elio didn’t want to think about what the alternative would have been. He was in Oliver’s arms now, and that was all. He took a deep breath. Elio didn’t want to stir the pot too much, but there was one thing that he couldn’t shake. “Can I ask you something, though?” Oliver nodded, and Elio continued. “Why did you get so angry? Was it because you thought I was lying to you? Or because I’m in high school?”

“Honestly? A little of column A, a little of column B.” Elio pouted and tensed up. “No, hear me out for a minute, so you can understand what happened in my head. It’s not an excuse, what I did was stupid, but I want you to understand what I was thinking. When I met you, I wasn’t expecting to meet someone, and to fall that hard, that fast. But you were so cute, and so smart, and so funny, and so talented, and I was thinking, _this is it, he’s perfect_. So then, I learned that you were taking music, and art, and Italian, at NYU, and nothing you ever said explicitly contradicted my initial belief that you were currently enrolled in NYU.

“I quickly saw this relationship being a very long-term thing, a chuppa, sharing a tallit, breaking a glass together, the whole thing. I mean, Howie and Jill are almost definitely going to get engaged after we graduate. Deb and Amir probably, too. And I’d be surprised if Hannah and her boyfriend, Gabe, aren’t engaged within the next year. Not that I was looking for that when we met, but you had me thinking about forever because you're so special, and I've never felt like this about anyone before. But when you said you were in high school, the entire future I’d imagined for us, it all came crashing down. Because you don’t meet the person you’re going to marry when you’re in high school. It should be all fun and games for you when you’re in high school. But for me, this was something different, something more serious. So, something flipped inside of my head, and I got really angry at you, when I shouldn’t have. And I’m so sorry.”

Elio lit up. Nested inside of Oliver’s confession was the small tidbit that Oliver could very well picture them married one day. “Y-you thought we would get married in the future?”

“I saw it as a real possibility, yes. I love you, Elio. But you’re so far away from all of that, even further than I am. I can and will wait for you. But I still can’t shake the feeling that you’re the one for me, but I won’t be the one for you,” Oliver said. “Things are going to change for you when you get to college, and you’ll want to explore what’s out there.”

“I’m not like most people, Oliver. Maybe I did meet the person I’m going to marry while I’m still in high school. Maybe not. But all I know is that I love you, and I want to be with you so much that it hurts. And how do you know I’m going to want to explore other options? You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s not going to change. You keep telling me how I should be feeling, or what I should want, or what I should do, instead of letting me make up my mind for myself. I know what I want, and what I want is you.”

Oliver sat silently for a while, his arms still around Elio. “What do you mean that I always tell you what you want, or should feel?” He asked his question in a genuine manner, and not defensively, which Elio would have expected.

“Honestly, it’s been since we started dating. I know that there are certain things that are out of your control. Like, I know that we can’t really be public about our relationship beyond our close friends and family. That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make to be with you. But there are a lot of times when you tell me that I’m not ready for something, or how I’m supposed to feel about it. Like all the times that you’ve told me that I wasn’t ready for sex - when you didn’t want to go further, because you wanted to take it slowly, or you wanted to wait until we got tested, that was fine, but there have been a few times when you’ve told me that I won’t be ready for something. Aren’t I the only one who can make that determination? You said you were worried about our power dynamics, so I just wanted to address that now, while we’re talking things over.” 

Elio gripped onto Oliver’s arm, silently letting him know that he wasn’t angry with him, just that this was something he’d been thinking about for a while. “Fuck… I never realized I’d been that controlling. I’m so sorry. I just… I’ve been around the block a few times, I wanted you to learn from my mistakes, and for all of your firsts to be good. I never meant to control you… I just wanted to be the perfect first boyfriend for you. And possibly only boyfriend.” Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Twenty years down the line, I didn’t want our story to be that we fucked the day we met. I wanted you to have good, distinct, memorable experiences.”

“I know, Babe, but you have to let me make my own mistakes, and make decisions for myself. All of my firsts **have** been good, because they’ve been with you. And also because they were really good. But if we’re both consenting adults, if I say I want something or I’m ready for it, and you want it too, you have to understand that I know what I want.”

Oliver nodded, taking it all in. “What is it that you want?”

There was a lot that he wanted from Oliver in this moment. How was he going to verbalize it all? “I want you to honestly promise me that you are okay with the fact that I’m in high school. I’ve spent the whole school year trying to convince Brooklyn Prep to let me graduate this year instead of next year, but I’m stuck for another year.”

“I know I reacted poorly last week, but I promise that I don't have a problem with the fact that you're in high school. I want you to do well in school and get into Juilliard or wherever else you may want to go. And I’ll be by your side through all of it. Even if we'd have to do long distance for some time, depending on where you go to college and I go to law school, or grad school, or both,” he said softly.

Elio happily leaned into Oliver. “I’m not done yet. I still feel like I didn’t really do anything wrong last week. I had wanted you to grovel and plead for me to forgive you, but you’ve mostly done that of your own accord. But I wouldn’t mind hearing you apologize again.”

Oliver kissed Elio’s neck and held him close. “Poodle, I love you, and I genuinely am sorry. I will try to never hurt you again. I messed up, and I can’t promise that we won’t fight, because couples fight, but I won’t accuse you of lying. If I get irrationally mad, I won’t hide from you like I did this week. I love you, and I don’t want you to ever feel like we’ve lost each other again.”

“I accept your apology,” Elio said, finally feeling like they were on equal footing. “There’s one more thing that I really want…” Elio said, biting his lip.

“What’s that?”

“I’m ready, Oliver. I want to have sex with you. Today.” Elio turned around and sat on Oliver’s lap, digging his knees into the couch cushion. 

Oliver ran his fingers up and down Elio’s back, underneath his t-shirt. “I want that, too. That’s not the reason I came here today, just so you know. I wanted to apologize.”

“I know.” Elio pressed his body against Oliver’s, and kissed him carnivorously. After a week of uncertainty, they were together, and they were going to finally be together. They each pulled off their shirts, and Elio felt electrified as his skin rubbed against Oliver’s. Their kisses were rougher and rawer, more animalistic than usual. But they were also filled with passion, and love, and desire. They kissed and touched each other as if the other contained the oxygen he needed to survive.

Once Elio realized they would be much more comfortable on his bed, he stood up, grabbed Oliver’s hand, and quickly ran down the stairs to his room. Elio jumped onto the bed, and began unbuttoning his jeans. Oliver quickly tugged the jeans and boxers off, knelt on the floor between Elio’s legs, and greedily took Elio’s hardness into his mouth before Elio had any time to object, not that he would have. Elio propped himself up on his arms, and watched as Oliver pleasured him - as if the act itself wasn’t exciting enough, watching as Oliver enthusiastically and methodically worked his length nearly pushed him over the edge. Oliver licked his index finger and teasingly grazed Elio’s hole. “Oh, fuck,” Elio muttered, arching his head back to moan loudly. After he peaked, Oliver grinned, licked his lips, then climbed into the bed.

“How’s that for an apology?” Oliver asked, holding Elio close to his chest.

Elio began unbuttoning Oliver’s jeans, and said, “You should apologize to me all the time, then.” He eventually freed Oliver’s erection, and gripped it, taking the time to admire it.

“Are you okay?” Oliver panted.

He gently stroked Oliver’s length, flicking his tongue at the tip. “Mmm, do you know how much I worship your cock?”

“Is that why you forgave me so easily?” he joked, as Elio continued to stroke him.

Elio shook his head. “No, but it’s an added bonus.” He crawled back toward the pillow, and kissed Oliver deeply, while their hands roamed each other’s bodies.

They kissed for eons, rolling around the bed, skin on skin, limb wrapped around limb, each on top of the other. Even though it was the best kissing of his life, Elio was impatient. He needed Oliver, and he needed him now. “Fuck me, Oliver,” he whispered, and began kissing Oliver’s neck.

Oliver nodded excitedly. “Do you have lube now?”

With a chuckle, Elio said, “Yes. I got some the day after you explained everything to me.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. And you still have the condoms?” Oliver asked.

“They’re still in my nightstand, but why do we need that? I thought that was why we got tested…” Elio confusedly pointed out.

“I know that I’ve been making decisions for you, and I promise I am going to stop doing that, but I think for your first time, it would just make things a bit less… messy. Unless you don’t want me to use one, I’m okay with that if you are.”

Elio caught Oliver’s drift. “Whatever you think is best.” He reached into the nightstand and pulled out the Magnum condoms and the bottle of lube, handing the lube to Oliver. While Oliver warmed lube between his fingers, Elio went to grab a towel, placed it over his sheet, then got back on the bed with his legs spread. He bit his lip, trying to calm himself down. “I’m nervous,” Elio admitted. “But I’m excited. And I want to do this.”

“I’ll be slow and gentle,” Oliver said, gently hooking his finger inside of Elio. Oliver took his time, helping Elio prepare, inserting one or two more fingers - Elio had closed his eyes and tried to remember every detail and every new sensation. “Do you think you’re ready?” Oliver asked, as Elio groaned softly.

This was it, the moment he’d been fantasizing about since they’d met in Booklyn two months ago. He was about to lose his virginity to Oliver. He began ignoring Marzia and Chiara’s voices in the back of his head that virginity is a social construct, because all he wanted in this moment was for Oliver to fuck him, to finally know what it felt like to be together. He felt like he knew Oliver so well, and it was now time to know each other biblically.

He opened a condom, tossed the wrapper on the floor, and handed the condom to Oliver, and watched as he slowly rolled it on. As he added more lube, Oliver said, “If it hurts, or you want to stop at any time, just tell me, okay?” Elio nodded, knowing full well that he was never going to tell Oliver to stop, no matter how much it might hurt.

Oliver got on his knees between Elio’s legs, gripped under Elio’s knees, spreading his legs wider, and slowly entered him. Elio immediately grimaced, not expecting that amount of pressure so soon. “Should I stop?” Oliver asked.

Elio shook his head. “No, definitely not.” It was a good pain, that slowly gave way to pleasure as Oliver took his time thrusting himself deeper inside of him. He started laughing, in disbelief that this was actually happening. “You’re inside of me,” he said, with a goofy smile.

“I’m inside of you,” Oliver parroted, with an even bigger grin. Elio appreciated the baby steps Oliver was taking to ensure everything felt good for him. Eventually, Oliver found a steady pace, and Elio began moaning loudly. “You feel so good… fuck, you are so hot…” Oliver said. They both began swearing uncontrollably, their words, and bodies, and minds in sync. Waves of pleasure began pulsing through Elio’s body - he’d never felt anything like this before. Oliver soon gripped his cock and began tugging, and he swore as he came all over his abdomen and Oliver’s hand.

“I’m close, Elio,” Oliver groaned, making eye contact just before he climaxed. Once Oliver had disposed of the condom and threw the towel on the floor, he got back into bed with Elio, resting his arm around his waist and his head on his shoulder. Elio rubbed Oliver’s arm, content in their post-coital silence. 

This had been so perfect, Oliver had been so gentle with him, and it hadn’t quite been what he was expecting, but it was amazing. “How are you doing?” Oliver asked, cuddling close to him.

“Amazing. Perfect. Fuck, that was good. Why did we wait so long to do that?” Elio mused, tilting his head back, an impish smile creeping across his face.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Oliver mulled.

Oliver repositioned onto the pillow next to Elio, their cheeks pressed together. Elio softly kissed Oliver’s cheek. “I love you, Oliver.”

“I love you so much, Elio.”

They clasped their hands together, and gently began kissing again. Elio was blissfully happy, and didn’t want the moment to end. This wasn’t his last first with Oliver by any stretch, but it felt like the biggest milestone, an important step in his life, in their relationship. This afternoon had given him clarity - Oliver was whom he was meant to be with, and meeting Oliver had changed his life forever, for the better.

Elio and Oliver spent the rest of the afternoon and evening cuddling, kissing, and fucking several more times, only leaving the bedroom to answer the door to grab the food they ordered.

“Hey, Oliver,” Elio said, squeezing Oliver tightly.

“Yes, Poodle?” he laughed.

“This has been the best night of my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took 32 chapters and like 90k words, but the boys have finally done the deed :) Oliver's still got some groveling to do, but they've mostly moved beyond the fight, and now they will be communicating more clearly with each other. And fucking like rabbits, obviously.
> 
> As always, thank you all for the comments, for the words of encouragement (and occasionally frustration), and for being such a great community. I've got so much more planned for Oliver and Elio in this story, so stay tuned!


	33. Honeymoon Phase

_**Saturday, April 27, 2019 - Monday, April 29, 2019** _

When Elio woke up, he and Oliver were a mess of limbs. He was still riding the high of the previous night. Turning his head, he took in the room, the vision of naked Oliver sleeping soundly, the floor littered in scattered pieces of clothing and condom wrappers. They’d had sex several times last night, and each time it just reconfirmed that all he wanted was to be with Oliver.

With the extra burst of adrenaline he was suddenly feeling, he quietly hopped out of bed, tidied the room a bit, and went to take his medication. After, he got back in bed, nestled against Oliver, and began running his finger down Oliver’s arm. As Oliver began to stir, Elio started kissing his cheek and neck.

“Good morning, Poodle,” Oliver said, smiling warmly, beginning to stretch.

“You awake?” Elio asked.

“Getting there,” Oliver said. “Someone wore me out last night.”

Elio kissed up Oliver’s jawline and began nibbling on his ear. “Are you rested enough for another go?”

Oliver started laughing and pulled Elio closer, holding him tightly. “I love your enthusiasm and how insatiable you are, but I need another couple of minutes.” Elio pretended to pout and nuzzled against Oliver again. “How are you feeling?”

“Happy. Fantastic. Grown up. Very much in love,” Elio listed, still unable to truly express the slew of thoughts and emotions running through his mind. He hoped Oliver understood.

“I meant physically,” Oliver said, kissing his forehead, “But those are all very excellent things to be feeling.”

Elio laughed, though he didn’t think he had misinterpreted Oliver’s question. “I’m okay, probably won’t be riding my bike to work today, but feeling good enough for another round or two this morning. I could spend my whole day having sex with you.”

“I’ve unleashed a monster,” Oliver said, pressing his lips to Elio’s. After some kissing and fooling around, Oliver whispered, “I think you should ride me. I think you’ll really like that position.”

Oliver was certainly not wrong - this was definitely his favorite position so far. Watching Oliver close his eyes and moan in pleasure, pleasure that Elio was causing, was such a turn on. Elio panted while he rocked his hips back and forth, controlling the rhythm and intensity. This also gave him free use of his hands, so he ran his thumbs in small circles over Oliver’s nipples. “Fuck, this is incredible,” Oliver shouted between groans. He reached up and grabbed Elio’s length, gently tugging, egging on Elio’s orgasm. Elio soon came in spurts across Oliver’s abdomen, and Oliver finished mere seconds after that.

Elio cuddled against Oliver, resting his head on his shoulder, and began playing with Oliver’s hair. “I think I really love having sex. Specifically, sex with you.”

“Just wait until you’re on top. Which you should definitely do tonight, if you want that.”

“Wasn’t I just on top?” They both collapsed into fits of giggles, and then Elio remarked, “I very much want that. What about right now? Think we have time?”

Oliver gently placed his hand on Elio’s cheek. “I would love to, but I need to get back to campus for a study group.”

“Do you want to meet me back here after my shift?” Elio asked hopefully.

Oliver shook his head. “I’m supposed to have dinner with a few of the guys tonight. Want to come over after work and join us?”

“Of course,” Elio said, giving Oliver a soft kiss on the nose. “This is going to be the longest shift of my life. All I’m going to be able to think about is fucking you.”

 

* * *

After Oliver went home, Elio had a few hours to kill before leaving for the bookstore. He and Oliver had grabbed bagels on Oliver’s walk to the subway (neither of them was keeping Kosher for Passover and had stopped eating leavened bread for the week), so Elio brought some bagels back for his family.

He shouted for his parents, and his mother said that she was in the living room. Elio twirled into the room, dancing to no music in particular.

“I brought you bagels and bialies,” he said, kissing his mother on the cheek and placing the bag down on the coffee table.

“We’ll have your aunt put those away for tomorrow morning. Should we save one for you?”

He shyly shook his head. “No, I think I’ll be at Oliver’s.”

“So you two have patched things up, then?” she asked, putting her reading glasses on top of her head and placing her book down on the couch.

Elio jumped onto the couch and curled against his mother, placing his head on her lap. “Things are perfect, maman. I love him so much.”

“I know, mon cherie. He loves you, too. I saw the way you looked at each other at Passover, the way he touched you or talked to you when he thought no one was looking. You’re good together.”

Annella played with Elio’s curls, gently massaging his scalp. “Is being in love always this exhausting?” Elio asked.

“You’re in a honeymoon phase right now. You don’t totally stop making love over time, but as you get older, you might do so less frequently. You can always tell Oliver you want to slow things down, or try less strenuous activities.”

Elio turned bright red. She definitely knew what they were up to last night, and he wasn’t going to lie to her. “Oh my God, maman, that’s not what I meant! We only did that for the first time last night, anyway. I meant how emotionally all-consuming this feels. I’m deliriously happy when I’m with him. I’m constantly thinking about him when he’s not with me. There’s an intensity and an urgency about everything when we’re together, I can’t really explain it.”

“Sweetheart, that’s how you’ve always been about everything. You’re always so intense and focused on the things that make you happy. You’ve been that way about the piano since you were a toddler. Love can make us feel so many different things, and being in love for the first time is special,” Annella said.

“Sometimes it’s very overwhelming. I’m worried I’m going to lose my focus on schoolwork and music and art. But my life feels so much fuller and richer with Oliver in it, and I don’t ever want to lose him. Did you feel this way about Papa when you met?”

Elio sat up and faced his mother. Annella placed her hand on her son’s cheek. “I think your father and I both felt that way when we started dating, that feeling that there’s no one else in the world besides your partner. Meeting your father changed the whole course of my life. After graduate school, I would have moved back to Italy or France and worked as a translator, and I’d certainly never have moved to New York. But I loved your father and couldn’t imagine not being with him, it didn’t matter what continent we lived on. I could find a job anywhere. The love is still there, very much so, but that urgency you mentioned, it tapers off over time, and becomes something else, even deeper. Once we had you, I think it was all redirected at loving you and keeping you safe and happy.”

He thought about what his mother said, and he couldn’t imagine that the way he felt about Oliver, the pangs in his stomach and the dizziness he sometimes felt when he was in Oliver’s arms, and the excitement of making love, that any of this would ever change. “I’m so happy with him, I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and sometimes when things feel this good, I’m afraid I built a precarious house of cards and it’s all going to topple over and I’m going to be more depressed than I’ve ever been, worse than when we first came here, worse than the summer I stopped taking my medication.”

Elio’s mother held his head and kissed his temple. “Elio, darling, your Papa and I, your Zia and Zio, we all love you very much, and we’re all here for you, always. And Marzia and Chiara are wonderful friends. You know that you can always come to any of us. You should probably tell Dr. Epstein about these worries. You will have so much love in your life, and if things don’t work out with Oliver, there are so many people out there who would be so lucky to be with you. I think your worries are for naught, but if you're feeling bad, let me know, and I will try my best to help. I love you.”

“Merci, maman…” he said, collapsing into the couch cushion.

 

* * *

As anticipated, the four hours of Elio’s shift at Booklyn felt like they took an eternity to end. When he finally clocked out, he booked it to the subway to head up to Harlem to meet Oliver and his friends at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que. Their group was still waiting for a table when Elio arrived. Since the entire menu looked good, they ordered practically one of everything to share for the table.

Elio appreciated how nice all of Oliver’s friends were, how they included him in their conversations, and treated him like another member of their group. He fell into a conversation with Darnell, who played bassoon in the university’s wind ensemble, and told him that he should definitely come to their first concert in the fall.

Howie took a bite of his brisket sandwich and said, “Yummmm, this is the best way to break Passover.”

Elio sat next to Oliver, who began playing footsie with him under the table. He made a conscious effort not to be too touchy with Oliver in public, but all he wanted was to hold his hand, or touch his arm, or sit on his lap and make out with him, but he held back. However, when Oliver squeezed Elio’s thigh, Elio was almost hard instantly, and spent the next few minutes trying to think of the least sexy things imaginable.

On the way back to their apartment, Elio said, "I realized we've never really hung out with my friends since we got together. Do you think we could hang out with Marzia and Chiara soon? They want to get to know you better."

"Of course! Let's plan something this week!" Oliver said with a smile.

Howie told Oliver that he was going to meet Jill at a party, but he’d see them later. This meant they had the apartment to themselves.

“I thought we’d never be alone,” Elio said, wrapping his arms around Oliver. “Now, why are your clothes still on?”

“My, my, aren’t we demanding tonight,” Oliver said, sticking out his tongue.

“Save the sass for the bedroom. Which is where we should be right now. Naked.”

They ran into Oliver’s bedroom, locking the door, and they both immediately began to strip. Once their clothes were scattered in piles around the room, they leapt into the bed and began kissing. After some spirited kissing and foreplay, where Elio decided to take charge and make sure that everything was as good as possible for Oliver, Elio had never felt more excited for what was to come. “Are you ready?” Oliver asked, reaching into the nightstand to hand Elio lube and a condom.

“I am so ready.” Elio unwrapped the condom, pinched the tip, and very carefully rolled it on. He tried to use as much lube as he remembered Oliver using yesterday, and he hoped it was the right amount. He interlocked his arm with the underside of Oliver’s knees, and slowly began to enter Oliver. Elio tried to gradually ease himself in, giving Oliver time to accommodate him, but everything about this was new and almost overwhelming. “Oh, fuck,” Elio screamed, as he started thrusting. “Am I doing this right? Is this okay?”

“You’re doing great,” Oliver said, and he started to moan Elio’s name. Elio looked down at Oliver’s body, hairy and glistening with sweat, his cock hard and leaking. That Elio had ever repressed or doubted his attraction to men was laughable now, because he couldn’t imagine anyone hotter than Oliver, especially given the sight of a very erect Oliver below him.

Elio began swearing uncontrollably. He was worried he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Oliver, this feels so good, oh my God…” When he felt that he was close, he started jerking Oliver, but he came before he got Oliver off. After disposing of the condom, he took Oliver’s cock in his mouth and languidly sucked him off.

“I love you so much,” Elio said, cuddling with Oliver afterward. “That was nothing short of incredible.”

Exhausted from the hanky panky and the immense amount of barbecue, they fell asleep in no time.

* * *

  

 

 

* * *

Elio and Oliver spent the majority of Sunday in bed, fucking, doing schoolwork, kissing, and fooling around some more. They fell asleep in Oliver’s bed on Sunday evening, watching some episodes of _Parks and Recreation_. When Elio awoke at 1am, he nudged Oliver. “We fell asleep… it’s too late for me to go home and get any rest before school. Should I just sleep here and get up early?”

“I wouldn’t say no to having you in my bed for one more night. Did you bring another change of clothes?”

Elio shook his head. “No, just what I wore yesterday and today. Didn’t plan on sleeping here tonight.”

“We’ll figure it out in the morning,” Oliver offered.

The alarm on Elio’s phone chirped, and he groaned, not wanting to leave Oliver’s arms. He hit snooze, and five minutes later, his alarm went off again. “You need to get up,” Oliver said, not letting go of Elio.

“Think we have time for a quickie before I shower?” Elio pleaded.

“It’s so early…” Oliver said, closing his eyes once more.

“I’m just saying, if we don’t fuck now, I’m going to be hard all day thinking about getting fucked by you, and it’s going to make concentrating in school very difficult,” Elio said with a devilish grin.

Oliver rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. “I think you’re the horniest person I’ve ever met.”

“Stay on your back, I’ll ride you, you relax and I’ll do all of the work,” Elio offered.

“Mmm, I like the sound of that, why didn’t you say that all along?”

After Elio showered, he came back into Oliver’s bedroom in just a towel. “I don’t have a clean shirt or clean boxers to wear… should I just go commando and wear one of the two shirts I have here?” Elio asked.

Oliver got out of bed and rummaged through his closet and drawers. He threw Elio a casual blue button-down shirt. “If you roll up the sleeves, I think this one will be fine. Do you want a clean pair of my boxers, or is that weird? They might be too big on you.”

Elio grinned at the idea of wearing Oliver’s boxers. “No, that’s really sexy, actually.” Once Elio was dressed, he realized he didn’t have things he needed for school. “Crap, I don’t have my laptop. I need my computer at school and I don’t have time to go home first.”

Oliver rummaged around his desk and grabbed a tablet. “Want to just borrow my iPad or something? I have a keyboard for it.”

“You sure you don’t mind?” Elio asked.

“Don’t mind. Just give it back to me later in the week, the next time we see each other.”

* * *

This was the first day back after spring break. Marzia had gotten back from Boston late the previous evening, and Chiara had a tan from her week in Florida.

Elio met his two friends in the cafeteria in the morning. Chiara was sitting on Drew’s lap, and Marzia was sitting across from them drinking her coffee.

“You okay, Elio? You look like you’ve lost some weight, you’re drowning in your shirt,” Chiara said, tugging at the shirt.

“What? Oh, no, this is Oliver’s shirt,” Elio noted, pulling the collar.

Chiara clutched her hand to her chest and cooed. “You’re sharing each other’s clothing? That’s so cute!”

“So you saw him this weekend? I take it everything is good now?” Marzia asked, as Elio sat down next to her.

He rested his head on her shoulder and smiled. “Everything is perfect.”

Drew waved at the tre amici and went in a separate direction as they walked in the hallway to their first period class. Marzia looked Elio up and down and smirked at him. “You’re acting different. You have almost a swagger in your step. Wait a second… YOU HAD SEX!”

Elio nodded and both girls grabbed onto his arms, jumping up and down, cheering and screaming. “Ms. Giordano, Ms. Alfonso, please calm down,” their Vice Principal said to them across the hall.

“How was it!” Chiara exclaimed. “I need every last detail.”

Marzia squeezed Elio’s hand and smiled warmly at him. “I’m really happy for you, El.”

They split off for their respective classes, and Elio promised he’d give them more details during gym class.

During his history class, Elio took out Oliver’s iPad to take notes. Suddenly, a text message came through, and it occurred to Elio that Oliver’s iPad was syncing with his iMessages account, so Elio was receiving all of Oliver's texts. He tried to swipe the first message away, so as not to pry, but accidentally opened the conversation. Elio couldn’t help himself, and kept the conversation open and read the text conversation as it was happening.

 

 

Elio went to exit the messaging app, when a text from Deb came through. His nosiness got the best of him, and he opened that text, too, and watched the conversation in real time.

 

 

 

Elio decided he’d done enough snooping, and felt uncomfortable and guilty having access to Oliver’s messages. The conversations with both Logan and Deb were private, but they also confirmed that Oliver truly did love him. He took out his phone to send Oliver a quick text and let him know that he had seen the conversations.

 

 

 

And with that, the bell rang, and he headed off to gym class where he was sure Marzia and Chiara would relentlessly tease him. He loved his friends, but he was expecting a very exhausting 45 minutes of walking around a track pretending to exercise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but this one took a while to set up the graphics and whatnot. I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> The instagram posts are from their "finstas" - they mentioned them in previous chapters, when Oliver encouraged Elio to get one and Marzia created the account for him. The accounts are private and only their close friends have access, thus why the account names are silly and they have only a few likes/comments.
> 
> I realized that it's a little weird/invasion of privacy to have Elio and the girls talk so openly about their sex lives, and to have Oliver talk to Deb about it, which is why I included Elio and Oliver talking about that here.
> 
> Pretend the conversations on Oliver's iPad are actually on an iPad. I could only find an iPhone text generator, so... just use your imagination :) Also, I noticed a few errors in the grammar in those texts, but it's too difficult to go back and change those, so the errors are staying in the graphics.
> 
> As always, seriously, thank you all for the kind words. Your comments really make my day!


	34. Sorry, Teach

_**April 29 - May 3, 2019** _

 

 

While changing into his gym clothes, Elio kept tugging at Oliver’s boxers. They had been sliding off all day, and they were now bunching under his gym shorts. He’d have to deal, because the gym shorts were too unforgiving to wear without boxer shorts underneath.

He met Chiara and Marzia on the track, and they started walking. Drew came over to them, wrapped his arm around Chiara and kissed her cheek. “Hey, babe, think I can just walk with Elio and Marzia today? We have some things we need to catch up on.”

“But I haven’t seen you in a week!” he said, with a fake frown.

Chiara ruffled Drew’s hair. “I think you might want to sit this conversation out.”

“I don’t mind,” Elio said, turning to address Drew. If Chiara liked him, and he was going to stick around for a while, he was going to have to get used to the way the tre amici interacted as a group. “They are going to be asking me very intimate and explicit details about my sex life.”

“His very nascent sex life!” Marzia said, wrapping her arms around Elio’s middle and squeezing tightly.

Drew looked down at his toes, likely debating whether his presence would be awkward. “I’ll see you guys after class, I’ll go run with some of the guys.”

Marzia put her head on Elio’s shoulder and started laughing. “Guess we scared him away?”

“Nah, he just wants to give us privacy,” Chiara added.

“Soooooo………..” Marzia taunted. “How was it?”

Elio couldn’t hide the dopey grin that was beginning to form. “So good, Martz. It was so good.”

Chiara jabbed him in the rib. “Is that really all you’re going to give us?”

“What do you want to know?” Elio asked.

“I mean… are you okay? Did it hurt?” Chiara asked. “I’ve never done anal before,” she whispered.

Marzia nodded and said, “Neither have I, so we need every last detail, please.”

“I… ummm… it hurt at first, but he was so gentle and made sure everything was good for me,” he said, smiling.

After additional prodding, Elio recounted specific details of his weekend, including the things that surprised him about himself or about sex in general. The girls seemed most excited when he divulged that he had also topped Oliver, something they hadn’t been expecting.

Their teacher blew the whistle to encourage them to hustle, but Elio whispered, “I don’t think I can go much faster than this. I’m still pretty sore.”

“Sorry, Teach, Elio can’t run today because he got dicked real good yesterday,” Marzia said, a little louder than Elio would have liked.

“This morning, too, if we’re keeping count,” Elio said, sticking his tongue out at his friends.

Marzia and Chiara both squealed, emitting high pitched noises that possibly only dogs could hear. “El, I’m so happy that you’re happy,” Marzia said, clinging to his arm.

“I know that he has to lay low, but when will we get to see him? I want to meet him when I’m not trying to hit on him!” Chiara said with a chuckle.

“I asked him about that, actually. Maybe Friday night? I’ll see when he’s free, he has finals coming up.”

“I can be free on Friday,” Chiara said. “You’ve spent a lot of time with his friends, we want to get to know him, too! Especially now that you’re sleeping together.”

Elio pretended to frown and said, “What, you didn’t want to get to know him before that? You’ll both love him, I promise.”

As they walked around the track, Elio thought about the past weekend, and how new and wonderful everything was. The girls started bugging him for even more details. “Everything’s been amazing, but there’s something particularly sexy about seeing someone as tall and broad and masculine as Oliver on his back, taking it from me. It’s a different feeling of control than when I’m riding him. Which I also really liked, by the way.”

“A weekend of sex, and you’re already adventurous and trying new positions!” Chiara mused.

“I mean… there are still so many more to try… It’s pretty much all I can think about now…” Elio was almost embarrassed by admitting this.

Marzia closed her eyes and laughed. “You’re an eighteen year old male. I think we’d be worried if you WEREN’T constantly thinking about sex.”

* * *

Marzia, Chiara and Drew followed Elio home after school on Friday, where they sat in the living room while Chiara live streamed their conversation. Elio warned her that once Oliver got there, she couldn’t take pictures or go live on Instagram, so she was getting it out of her system now.

Mafalda stopped by with a tray of lasagna, a baking sheet of vegetables, and some garlic bread for Elio to heat up for dinner for his friends, and chocolate chip cookies for them to eat for dessert. “Zia Mafalda, you really didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

“It’s not for you, it’s for Marzia and Chiara,” she joked, and the girls ran over to give her a hug.

“This is Elio’s Great Aunt, Mafalda. She’s the BEST cook ever, and she should absolutely have her own cooking show. If anyone from the Food Network is watching, hit me up!”

Mafalda hid her face and blushed. “Chiara, that is silly. I just cook for my family.”

Elio went into the kitchen with his great aunt, who told him what to heat up when, and what temperature to use. “It’s sometimes still hard using Fahrenheit on the oven,” Mafalda noted, putting the vegetables in Elio’s refrigerator.

Several hours later, Oliver finally arrived. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, as Elio closed his front door and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. “My study group ran late.”

“It’s okay,” Elio said, getting on his tiptoes to kiss Oliver. “I missed you.”

Oliver chuckled, and placed his hand on Elio’s lower back. “You missed me? We FaceTimed this morning, and you surprised me at my apartment two nights ago.”

“What?” Elio said, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t want to go four days without seeing you.” He gently pressed his lips to Oliver’s ears and softly whispered, “Or without fucking you.”

“You are something else, Elio,” Oliver said, as Elio held his hand and walked him to the living room.

“Marzia, Chiara, you’ve both met Oliver before,” Elio said. Before he could finish speaking, they both jumped up and hugged Oliver tightly. Oliver was solidly a foot taller than either of them.

Drew stood up to shake Oliver’s hand, which felt oddly formal, but Oliver went for it. “Hi, I’m Oliver,” he said, shaking Drew’s hand.

“I’m Drew, I’m Chiara’s boyfriend,” he said, wrapping an arm around Chiara.

They all sat on the couch. “Great, now that I’m the fifth wheel, what’s the plan for the night?”

“Martz, you know you’re not the fifth wheel. I’ll heat up dinner in a little while. I figured we could play a board game and like, just hang out?” Elio said, lacing his fingers with Oliver’s.

“As a warning, Elio can get very competitive,” Chiara said.

“Oh, I’m well aware. I’m just as bad as he is,” Oliver joked.

Marzia went looking through the shelves for Elio’s board games. She pulled down _Pandemic_. “Why don’t we try something cooperative, then?”

“Excellent idea,” Oliver said.

As Marzia delegated roles and Elio went into the kitchen to begin preparing dinner.

The group finished their first game just as the kitchen timer indicated that dinner was ready. Elio placed trivets on his coffee table, brought over the warm lasagna, and handed out paper plates, so that everyone could serve themselves.

“Elio, do you think your uncle would be offended if I proposed to your aunt? Each time I eat something she’s cooked, it’s better than the next,” Oliver said with his mouth full of lasagna.

“I think he’d find it funny, but I’d take offense to that,” Elio pouted. “You’re a good cook, too, for what it’s worth.”

“But I’m no Zia Mafalda.”

Elio kissed Oliver’s cheek. “Thank goodness for that, otherwise I’d be very conflicted about all of this.”

“Ughhhhhh,” Chiara squealed, “You two are just so adorable together, I just can’t even!!!!”

Drew placed his hand on her shoulder. “You can’t even what?” he mocked.

“Oliver, when does your internship with Chuck Schumer’s office start?” Marzia interrupted.

He swallowed some vegetables down with a sip of water. “Day after Memorial Day. I don’t really get much of a break.”

“Did I tell you he was interning for Schumer?” Elio asked, scratching his head.

“Maybe?” Marzia shrugged, ripping herself a piece of garlic bread and hiding her face.

“Am I missing something?” Elio looked around the room, and both Marzia and Oliver were avoiding his gaze. Chiara idly scrolled on her phone, and Drew shook his head, indicating he had no idea what was going on.

Oliver finally spoke up. “Marzia and I text sometimes. She DMed me on Instagram the week you and I started dating, and we occasionally talk now.”

“Marzia, why did you DM Oliver?” Elio huffed.

Marzia took out her phone to try and find her initial message. “I just told him that if he hurt you, I would end him.”

“I can fight my own battles, Martz. I don’t need you to protect me.”

Drew chimed in. “She cornered me in school recently and said the same thing about me and Chiara. I get it, she’s just trying to be a good friend.” He began chuckling and looked at Chiara. “Her exact threat was that she would castrate me if I ever hurt you.”

“Martz! Don’t do that to him! But also, that was really sweet, thank you,” she said, wrapping her arm around Marzia.

Elio took Marzia’s phone and scrolled through a few of their conversations on Instagram and texting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elio looked up at Oliver and locked eyes with him, smiling softly at him. “So you two are only talking behind my back because you care about me.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Marzia said. “Now we just text sometimes. We didn’t tell you in the beginning, and then it felt weird.”

“That makes sense,” Elio contemplated.

The gang continued eating their dinner and made more small talk, trying to get to know Oliver better. “What are your plans for after college?” Chiara asked.

Oliver sighed loudly. “The plan was always for me to go to law school, preferably Harvard, but I’m sure Elio’s told you that I’m not too keen on the idea. I’d much rather get a PhD and become a philosophy professor. Dr. Perlman suggested looking into joint PhD-JD programs, since most of the law schools I’d have looked at would have them. I’m still afraid to completely rule out law school, because that’s the only future I’ve ever really had, going into politics like my dad and grandpa.”

“So that’s another what, at least seven, eight years of school? Then I assume you’ll want a clerkship for a federal judge or some other prestigious government job?” Marzia said.

“How do you know that much about lawyers?” Oliver quipped.

“Mom’s a lawyer at one of the fancy Manhattan firms. She went to Stanford law. Wants me to be a lawyer. Fuck that.”

“Amen,” Oliver shouted, clinking his cup with hers. “What do you want to do instead?”

Marzia placed her cup back down on the coffee table. “Go into medicine, I think. I’ve always wanted to be a doctor. Don’t know what kind yet. Probably not pediatrics, I don’t think I could deal with kids all day long.”

“What are you going to do if you go to Harvard and Elio goes to Juilliard?” Chiara asked sweetly.

“Then we’ll figure out long distance, because at least for me, I think breaking up would be too painful. But we haven’t actually talked about that yet,” Oliver admitted.

Elio reached over and squeezed Oliver’s hand tightly. He knew that was a conversation they’d need to have eventually, he just wanted to avoid it for as long as possible. Even though Juilliard was his dream school, maybe he should be looking more seriously at different music programs in Boston.

The rest of the evening flew by. They played more board and card games - _Pictionary_ was nixed, as everyone argued over who would have Elio on their team. Eventually, the girls decided it was time to head out - Marzia had a long trip to Staten Island to go to her father’s house for the weekend, and Drew was going to walk Chiara home before taking the subway back to his family’s Prospect Heights apartment.

As the girls hugged him on the way out, they both whispered that they approved of Oliver. Chiara kissed Oliver on the cheek, then Elio. “See you on Monday!” she said, as Drew offered them both a fist bump.

Once the girls were gone, Oliver helped Elio clear the plates and wash the dishes. While they were in the living room, Elio asked, “Did you have fun? I know it’s probably weird to hang out with a bunch of high school juniors.”

Oliver laced his fingers through Elio’s hair and pulled him close, kissing his hairline. “Of course I had fun, your friends are great. Marzia and Chiara love you.”

Elio tapped his fingers against Oliver’s hipbone, looking up at his boyfriend. “I know they love me. What about you?”

“Do you want me to show you how much I love you?” Oliver asked, running a finger down Elio’s clothed chest and abdomen.

Elio nodded slowly, biting his lip, careful not to break eye contact. Sometimes he thought he looked ridiculous when he was trying to turn on the charm or sex appeal, but Oliver never said anything, so he continued to play coy.

Oliver pulled Elio in tightly, pressing his lips to Elio’s ever so softly, languidly, almost imperceptibly darting his tongue against Elio’s. When he couldn’t take it anymore, Elio let out a guttural whine, and began achingly kissing Oliver, making up for lost time.

“My, my, you’re impatient.” Oliver began pressing soft kisses against Elio’s neck and collarbone. “You don’t want me to tease you?” He bent down and lifted Elio’s shirt slightly, kissing Elio’s abdomen.

Elio closed his eyes and moaned. “No, I need you so badly. You were so smart and charming with my friends and flirting with me all night, it drove me crazy.”

Oliver began unbuttoning Elio’s jeans. “What do you want to do, then?” He unzipped his jeans and cupped his hand over Elio’s length, hard under his boxers. He twitched beneath Oliver’s touch.

“I want you to fuck me. Right now.” Oliver got on his knees and tugged down Elio’s pants and boxers in one go. He gripped Elio’s length, and took it all in his mouth. Elio pulled his shirt over his head, needing to shed every layer of clothing as quickly as possible. “That wasn’t what I meant, but I definitely want this, too…” He moaned happily, enjoying Oliver’s deft handling of his cock. Oliver was right in his text conversation with Deb - Elio definitely loved when Oliver went down on him. It was so intimate and personal, and required total trust of his partner. Oliver took his time, flicking his tongue at Elio’s most sensitive parts. Elio soon climaxed loudly, gripping onto Oliver’s head for support to keep himself upright.

Once Oliver was standing up again, Elio immediately latched onto him, kissing him passionately. While kissing, they moved around the room as Oliver attempted to kick off all of his clothing. After enough recovery time, Elio soon returned the favor, now that he knew just how much Oliver enjoyed when he did this for him. However, he soon rose from his knees, and whispered, “I’m going to get lube, stay right here.” Oliver stayed in place in the middle of the living room, looking slightly disappointed that Elio had stopped. Elio admired how hot Oliver looked in the moment, naked and turned on, specifically because of him.

He ran into his bedroom and came back with lube and placed it down on top of the piano. “No condom?” Oliver asked.

“No condom. I want you to come inside of me. I can handle that. Is that okay with you?”

“More than okay,” Oliver said, kissing Elio sweetly. “It’s partially why we got tested, anyway. Now, bend over…” he said, gently tapping Elio’s ass cheek while grabbing the lube. Elio leaned forward, pressing his forearms against the piano keys and resting his head against his arms, while Oliver slowly entered him. While Oliver thrusted inside of him, Elio kept jolting against the piano, his arms and fists pressing groups of keys at random. It sounded as if a cat was scampering across the keys, but in this moment, it was the sweetest music Elio had ever heard. 

Oliver finished before Elio, so he soon picked Elio up, placed him on the lid of the piano, and pleasured him once more.

They cuddled in Elio’s bed after, their clothing still scattered around Elio’s apartment. Elio gave Oliver a kiss on the chin. “Thank you for tonight. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Poodle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Marzia and Chiara so much (especially), and I kind of want to write a story told from their perspectives where Elio is just a secondary character in their lives. Maybe one day.
> 
> Thank you for all of the kind comments you keep leaving, you're all the best.


	35. Recipient of Your Adoration

_**Saturday, May 4, 2019** _

As now seemed to be their Saturday morning tradition, Elio and Oliver stopped at Bergen Bagels on Oliver’s walk to the subway. Oliver pulled Elio into a small side street, looked around and saw no one walking by, so he pushed him against a tree. Elio wanted to melt into the kiss, and wrapped his arms around Oliver’s lower back, holding him close.

“As much as I love this, I thought we can’t do this in public?” Elio asked, looking up at Oliver, desperate for more kisses. 

Oliver leaned his hand above Elio’s head and pressed it into the tree. “You just looked extra kissable this morning. I couldn’t help myself.” Someone turned the corner and Oliver quickly stood up straight, adjusted his pants, and waited for the woman and her dog to pass them.

“I… I should probably get back to campus so I can get some studying in before dinner tonight. I’ll talk to Howie and Deb and we’ll figure out a place.”

Elio frowned, wishing he was still being pushed against the tree, happily making out with his boyfriend. “Howie’s coming too? I thought it was a double date.”

“It was supposed to be, but he felt left out. Now it’s a triple date. Do you mind?” Oliver asked.

“Of course not. I like Howie and Jill. Text me where to meet you before I leave work, otherwise I’ll just meet you at your apartment I guess?”

 

* * *

 

Per his mother’s request, Elio bought some bagels for his family, and went upstairs to drop them off before he left for his Booklyn shift. When he got upstairs, his father was sitting at the dining room table on his iPad, reading the newspaper.

Sammy took his glasses off and placed his iPad on the table next to his coffee mug. “How did it go last night with your friends? Did you have a nice time?”

Elio took two plates from the cabinet and poured himself a mug of coffee before joining his father at the table. “It was great. I think Marzia and Chiara both really liked Oliver.”

“As I would have expected, he seems like a wonderful young man.”

He handed Sammy a bagel with lox and unwrapped his own everything bagel with jalapeño cream cheese. “I need to thank Zia Mafalda again, she didn’t have to make us dinner. Everyone was obsessed with her lasagna.”

“You’re basically her grandson, and her only one at that, she shows her love by cooking and baking for you.”

Elio and Sammy quietly ate their bagels and sipped their coffees. “Are you the only one home?” Elio asked.

“I think Zio Manfredi went to Dyker Heights to watch soccer all day with some of his friends. He said Inter Milan is playing today. Your mother and your aunt went to the farmer’s market, but they’ll be back soon.”

They discussed the classes Elio was taking, and how the end of the school year was going. “I’ve got the talent show coming up soon, I’m going to play a piano solo, but Chiara is making me accompany here while she sings something, too.”

“Is she still posting those silly videos on the internet?” Sammy asked, as he took another bite of his bagel.

“She’s sometimes on YouTube, but she’s mostly on Instagram these days. She’s doing anything she can to become famous.”

Sammy nodded. “She’s a talented girl. Someone will give her a big break soon.” After he finished his bagel, he angled his chair toward Elio’s. “Has Oliver thought about his future some more? Is he still applying to law school, or has he thought about the joint programs I recommended?”

“I think he’s leaning toward a JD/PhD. He read about them after you mentioned it, and he said he felt stupid that he’d never even realized it was an option. He just needs to take the GRE this summer. He’s working hard to finish the semester with good grades, and he’ll worry about that in a few weeks. He should have his LSAT results soon,” Elio boasted.

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad I was able to help. What are Oliver’s plans for the summer?”

Elio frowned, thinking about spending the entire summer away from Oliver. “He’s got an internship with Senator Schumer’s office in the city. And he’s probably working with his dad’s campaign somewhat.”

“Your mother and I were thinking, if you wanted to ask him, I’m trying to finish my book this summer, and I could use an assistant. If Oliver wanted to spend a few weeks in Italy with us, he could do some research for my book, and I would add his name as a co-author. Classics isn’t quite the same field as philosophy, but it’s overlapping, and it would help his PhD applications.”

This felt like it was more a favor for Elio than for Oliver, but Elio was thrilled at the prospect of bringing Oliver to Crema, to the house he grew up in. They wouldn’t have to spend two months apart! But Oliver already has a summer job lined up… “Wait… are you serious? You’re saying I can invite Oliver to Italy for part of the summer?”

“For as long as he wants to stay, that would be fine with us. He’d be working with me some of the time, but you’d have plenty of time together, too. You do need to be working on your college applications and audition pieces this summer, anyway.”

Elio jumped out of his seat and hugged his father. “Thank you, papa. I’ll bring it up with Oliver tonight, see if he’d be able to go. Would he have to stay in the guest room, or…”

Once Elio sat back down, Sammy placed his palm over Elio’s hand. “You’re an adult, Elio. We have no issues if you share a room with your boyfriend. You stay at each other’s places three nights a week, we shouldn’t hide under any pretenses because we think it makes the other more comfortable. There’s no need to pretend that you aren’t having sex. Though maybe you should keep pretending around your great aunt and uncle.” Elio felt his cheeks heat up, as they were wont to do whenever his parents talked about his burgeoning sex life. 

“I assume maman told you?” he asked, feeling somewhat mortified.

Sammy nodded and began to laugh. “She did. There’s no need to get embarrassed talking about sex. You’re young and in love, sex is a natural part of life. You should be enjoying yourself. I hope, if you wish to, that you’ll feel comfortable talking to me about that sort of thing. I’m sorry that I can’t give you specific advice, as I’ve never been with a man, but I can try to be helpful where you need me to be. I did kiss a man at a party in college, it was nice but didn’t do much for me…”

Elio jokingly plugged his ears and pretended to not to listen. “I should go downstairs and do some work before I head to Booklyn…”

“I won’t hold you, then. Just know that I’m proud of you, Elio. Your mother told me that you and Oliver got tested before sleeping together, which was very responsible. You have so much love to give, and I know how much you always give of yourself, but I want you to remember that you should allow yourself to be loved, too.”

“For some reason I have yet to understand, he really does love me,” Elio admitted.

Sammy held his coffee mug with both hands and took a sip. “Son, don’t ever put yourself down like that. Of course he loves you. I know it sounds trite coming from your father, but you’ve grown into such a wonderful man, and you are deserving of so much love. You should settle for nothing less than someone who loves all of you, unconditionally. Oliver is incredibly lucky that he’s the recipient of your adoration.”

“Thank you, papa.” Elio finished his coffee as he and his father spoke for a few more minutes. “I need to get ready for work, but I’ll be home by dinner tomorrow.”

Elio got up and kissed his father on the cheek. “I love you, son.”

“I love you, too, papa.”

* * *

Elio finished shelving books much quicker than anticipated, and since the store was mostly empty, Nia let him leave his shift an hour early. He decided that he’d surprise Oliver at his apartment, and maybe get in a quickie before they left for dinner. All Elio could think about lately was sex with Oliver. The past week had exceeded his wildest expectations, and he’d been more sexually adventurous than he’d ever thought possible, but Elio’s desire for Oliver was insatiable.

Oliver’s doorman let Elio up to the apartment without buzzing, so Oliver was surprised when Elio knocked on the door. “Hi! What are you doing here? I thought you were meeting us at the restaurant?”

He pulled Elio into a tight, loving hug, closing the door behind him. “I got out of work early, figured I’d surprise you.”

“Mmm, you are the best surprise.”

“That’s what my parents have always said about me,” Elio added with a smirk.

He walked back over to his couch, where his laptop and several books were splayed across the coffee table. “C’mere, you.” Oliver sat down on the couch, and patted down the cushion next to him, hoping for Elio to sit down. Instead, Elio threw his backpack onto the floor and immediately mounted Oliver’s lap, kissing him needily. “Whoa, slow down there, tiger…”

Between kissing Oliver’s neck, Adam’s apple, and jawline, Elio said, “What? I missed you.”

“Poodle, I missed you, too, and I’m glad you’re here early, but I need this last hour to study before we leave for dinner. Is that okay?”

Elio tilted his head, widened his eyes and gave his best exaggerated pout. “But it’s been at least ten hours since you were inside of me, which is at least nine and a half hours too long to wait.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and laughed, leaning forward to kiss Elio’s forehead. “If we fool around right now, we’re never going to want to leave for dinner. Remember last weekend, when you stayed here an entire day beyond what you had planned?”

He smiled thinking about the previous week’s escapades. “The sex was so good, I just didn’t want to go home. Can I at least blow you? Please? I just want to get you off, right now.”

After pretending to mull over Elio’s request, Oliver reached around Elio to slam his laptop shut, and surprised him by picking him up and carrying him into the bedroom. “If that’s the case, I’m going to do you at the same time, since we don’t have that much time. But I promise I’ll give you a properly good fucking when we get back tonight.” Elio had never taken his clothing off more quickly in his life.

* * *

It didn’t take long to take the subway to the restaurant, and Oliver subtly placed his hand on Elio’s lower back when they walked. He quickly removed his hand when someone started shouting his last name.

“Morgenstern? Is that you?”

Elio noticed when Oliver scrunched his nose in dislike, but he quickly put on the charm once more. “Jefferson Whitworth, what are you doing in Manhattan?” He mouthed the name _Jefferson Whitworth_  to Oliver, raising an eyebrow, trying to understand who he was.

“Father’s new girlfriend offered to take us to see Jerry Seinfeld at the Beacon Theatre. I’m not really a fan of his humor, the New York values sort of thing isn’t quite for me, but I wasn’t going to pass up an evening in the city.” Elio noticed Oliver visibly scowl. “Oh, this is my girlfriend, Annabelle.”

Oliver stopped for a moment and looked at Elio apologetically. “This is my friend, Elio. Elio, Jefferson and I went to Blackwell Friends together. His dad is a Congressman from Alabama, and he goes to Princeton.”

Well, that explained the palpable disdain. “Nice to meet you,” Elio said, shaking hands with both Jefferson and Annabelle. 

“Heard that your dad threw his hat in the ring for the Democratic nod. That’s very… noble of him, to try like that. It’s not like any Dem has a shot at beating the GOP anyway.”

“I’d beg to differ, we’re working really hard to make sure whichever Democrat wins the ticket pulls through next year.”

Jefferson shrugged. “I guess we’ll see about that. Oh! Did you see Jeremiah Warner’s mugshot on Politispawn last week? That was hilarious!”

“I think we have different definitions of hilarious,” Oliver said, looking down at his phone to check the time.

“What’s Politispawn?” Elio asked.

“It’s an Instagram account that posts about children of politicians. The Jolly Green Giant over here was featured just last month, when he pulled that clever stunt with the little kid on his shoulders,” Jefferson said.

Oliver rolled his eyes and attempted to keep his composure. “It wasn’t a stunt. I was just trying to help a lost kid find their parents. It wasn’t for the cameras.”

Jefferson squinted and pursed his lips, nodding sarcastically and giving Oliver two thumbs up. “Warner probably ruined any political chances he might have had with that DUI.”

“I’m surprised it took that long for him to get in trouble. I bet he’d been caught before and his father paid off the authorities. Though, he almost killed someone this time, so maybe he’ll learn his lesson not to drink half a bottle of Scotch and then drive.” Oliver looked at his phone again. “Anyway, we’re meeting some folks for dinner and need to get going. It was nice running into you!”

“Best of luck to your father on the campaign trail,” Jefferson said snidely.

Once they were a block away, Oliver groaned. “I fucking hate that guy. He was such a pretentious jerk in high school.”

“What, he wasn’t your best friend?” Elio cheekily asked.

Oliver sighed loudly, still visibly distressed about running into his old classmate. “Don’t even joke about that. And I’m sorry that I had to introduce you as my friend…”

Elio stopped Oliver mid-sentence. He didn’t need to explain himself, Elio knew it was a risk even being out in public together. “Oliver, don’t. I understand. I’m not offended.”

They arrived at the restaurant, and were directed to a table where Howie, Jill, Deb, and her boyfriend were already seated. Elio went over to the person he assumed was Deb’s boyfriend, as he’d never met him before. “Hey, I’m Elio, you must be Amir?”

When Elio extended a hand, Amir instead pulled Elio into a tight hug. “Elio! It’s so nice to finally meet you! Deb’s told me so much about you!”

“Sorry we’re late, guys,” Oliver apologized. “Deb, you’ll never guess who we ran into on the sidewalk.”

“Sarah Jessica Parker?” Deb asked.

“Kevin Bacon?” Howie added.

“Lady Gaga?” Jill joked.

“Derek Jeter!” Amir shouted.

Oliver rolled his eyes once more. “Very funny, the lot of you. We saw the one and only Jefferson Davis Whitworth. The very worst of our high school classmates.”

Deb pretended to gag and grimaced at the thought of him. “Gross! What the hell was he doing in Manhattan and not in a trash heap in New Jersey?”

“HEY! New Jersey happens to be a very excellent place,” Howie pointed out. “Don’t diss my home state.”

Amir placed his hand on Deb’s shoulder. “Is he the one who always touched you inappropriately?”

Deb and Oliver both nodded. “He’s despicable. He also made a thinly veiled anti-Semitic statement. His dad is taking him to see Jerry Seinfeld tonight-”

“Lucky! Tickets were so expensive!” Howie interjected.

“ANYWAY. He said he wasn’t a fan of Seinfeld’s _New York Values_. Stolen straight from the rhetoric of Ted Cruz. But would you expect anything less from him?”

Deb and Oliver regaled their friends with tales of their former classmate, each story more disgusting or annoying than the last.

Elio and Oliver sat across from each other, each seated next to one of the other two couples. Since the restaurant was California-themed, they ordered some tacos, burritos, and grain bowls. They ordered guacamole and tamales for the table.

“Mmm, tastes like home,” Amir said, devouring a chip covered with guacamole. “Just like my mom makes at home.”

“I thought you said your parents mostly cook Pakistani food?” Jill asked.

He shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. My nani’s karahi is to die for. I’ll make it for you all sometime. But my parents are also native Californians. They met in med school at UCSD. My mom makes amazing guac, and delicious fish tacos.”

“I can attest to that. She made those when I came to visit during winter break,” Deb said, rubbing her stomach.

Elio enjoyed the dynamic Oliver had with his friends, and the evening flew by. Both other couples were really cute together, and as a friend group, they all got along well. There was something really comforting about being out with other couples. As much as Elio adored Marzia, he felt bad the previous evening that she didn’t have someone she was dating, and felt like they were leaving her out, so they made every effort to not be overly affectionate. Even though Elio and Oliver couldn’t show physical affection at dinner, it felt like a real date.

“Hey, Ollie,” Howie said, slowly nursing his margarita. “I know I’ve seen you naked, and you’re my best friend and roommate and all, but I’m taken. Though, I’m flattered, really.”

“Huh?” Oliver asked. He and Elio had been staring at each other during Jill’s story about her econ final, and neither knew what Howie was talking about.

Howie began to laugh. “You’ve been playing footsie with **me**  all night, and not this stud next to me.”

Elio looked under the table, and saw that Howie was wearing a pair of Chuck Taylors, not totally dissimilar to his own. The group all dissolved into fits of giggles, and Oliver turned red. “I’m sorry, Howie.”

“It’s fine, really. I thought it was funny.”

Amir looked over at Howie and then at Oliver. “When did he see you naked?”

“We got a full show a couple of weeks ago when he waltzed naked through the living room after they were having sex,” Jill explained.

Now was time for Elio to feel embarrassed. “We… we weren’t having _sex_  then… We hadn’t yet, when that happened…”

"You don't want to know what I was hearing last weekend, though," Howie said playfully, sticking his tongue out.

Deb reached across the table and placed her hand over Elio’s. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

“So, am I the only one at this table who hasn’t seen Oliver naked?” Amir asked.

Everyone nodded collectively. “You’re missing out,” Jill said. “Elio’s a lucky guy.”

Indeed he was. After dinner, Oliver owned up to his promise of giving Elio a properly good fucking. Elio was so infatuated with Oliver and lost amidst his sexual desires, that he forgot to ask Oliver about Italy, and didn’t know or care that Howie could definitely hear everything they were doing. Frankly, they could probably hear their screams and moans of pleasure in the Bronx.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience. I'm hoping to be able to write chapters more frequently soon. I have SO much planned for this story, and I hope you'll all stick with it and keep enjoying it. Thank you everyone for your kind words after each chapter, and overall.


	36. Hangover Cure

_**Sunday, May 5, 2019 - Thursday, May 9, 2019** _

After quite the aerobic workout the night before, Elio and Oliver slept in on Sunday morning, with Elio’s head resting on Oliver’s shoulder, and arm around his torso. When Elio finally came to, he awoke to Oliver playing on his phone with his free hand. “You’re finally awake!” Oliver exclaimed, kissing Elio’s forehead.

“Don’t wanna be. Wanna sleep more,” Elio groaned.

“Good morning to you, too. Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” Oliver smirked.

Elio buried his face in Oliver’s chest hair and pulled the comforter over his face. “I think I drank too much at dinner last night. My head is pounding.”

Oliver rubbed Elio’s shoulder, using his thumb to knead into the muscle. “You had two margaritas, same as me and I’m fine now.”

“Keep doing that, that feels good,” Elio moaned, repositioning so Oliver could have a better angle to massage his shoulders. He pressed himself against Oliver’s thigh, wrapping his leg around Oliver’s leg. “But you drink more often, are all muscle, and have got at least fifty pounds and six inches on me. I’m a skinny pathetic lightweight.”

“You’ve got that wrong, I think your six inches are on ME right now,” Oliver joked, sliding a hand between them, grazing Elio’s length, beginning to tug slowly as Elio had been hard since he woke up. “You might be a bit of a lightweight, but I love your body, and you certainly aren’t pathetic. Do you want me to go get you your medicine and some aspirin while you sprawl in the bed?”

Elio shook his head and groaned. “No, stay here with me. Definitely don’t stop what you’re doing now. That’d just be mean.”

“What shouldn’t I stop doing? The massage or the hand job?” Oliver asked.

He wasn’t sure which one felt better right now. “Do I have to choose?” He turned his head slightly and yelped in pain.

“I’ll go get you the pills, I’ll be right back.” Oliver quickly ran out of the room naked, and came back a moment later with Elio’s antidepressant, two aspirins, and a glass of water. “Coast was clear this time, thank goodness.” Elio took all three pills in one fell swoop, and then wrapped his arms around Oliver’s waist as Oliver stood next to the bed.

“Thank you.”

Oliver rubbed Elio’s back some more, and Elio appreciated that he was trying to be gentle with him. “I’ll always take care of you. I’m still learning to anticipate your needs, but I’m working on it.”

Even though his head was pounding, Elio gave Oliver the biggest, widest smile he could muster. He was so overcome with love and appreciation for Oliver, and in that moment, he knew he’d picked him well. Oliver was so kind and warm, and Elio realized that even in his lowest moments, he’d be there holding his hand, providing whatever help he could. But as sappy and sentimental as he was feeling, he took one look at Oliver’s naked form, and was instantly turned on again. The perils of being an eighteen year old male.

“The aspirin was helpful, but know what would be an even better hangover cure?” Elio said lasciviously.

Oliver raised his eyebrow and tilted his head. “A bacon egg and cheese?”

He shook his head and bit his lip, trying to find the right words. “Maybe later, but a blow job should do the trick.”

“If you think my cock has restorative powers, then, by all means, have at it. I wouldn’t say no.”

Elio started laughing and began massaging his temples, trying to will away the headache. “I meant FROM you! It felt so good when you were touching me before, and the thought of you running around the apartment naked, where Howie and Jill could have seen you again… Fuck, I’m so turned on right now.”

“How can I say no to you? You’re too cute to resist.” Oliver reached around Elio, fluffed up a few pillows and placed them down behind Elio. “Here, relax, rest your head, and I’ll do the rest.”

“But I like watching when you suck me off…” Elio whined. “This is probably really weird-”

“You’re really weird. But I love how weird you are,” Oliver interrupted.

“I really like when you make eye contact while you do it. You give me this look of determination, that the only thing you want in that moment is to make me come. Fuuuuuuuck, I love having sex with you so much. I love you so much. I’m so happy with you, and you make me so horny all the time.”

Oliver started laughing once more. “Just lie back and let me suck your dick already,” he said, playfully pushing Elio down toward the pillows he’d stacked for him. Elio closed his eyes as Oliver slowly kissed his abdomen, his inner thigh, kissing and touching everything in the vicinity of, but not including, his cock. Elio panted, impatiently waiting for Oliver to finally begin what he had promised. After minutes of torture, Elio gasped when Oliver finally took him in his mouth, enjoying the sensation of the warm, wet heat enveloping his length. However, Oliver wasn’t done torturing Elio. Every lick, every suction was as languorously slow and gentle as possible. Soon, Oliver stopped suddenly, with no warning.

“How’s your head?” Oliver asked, tapping his fingers along Elio’s stomach.

“You’ve given me no complaints…” he responded, unable to not laugh at his own joke.

Oliver tickled Elio’s sides, joining in on the laughter. “Very funny. Are you feeling any better?”

“My head’s starting to clear up, yeah. You’re not going to finish what you started?” he asked, pouting.

“Oh, you’re going to finish, I promise.” Oliver took one of the pillow from under Elio’s head and told him to prop it under his back. “If it’s okay, I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, or it makes you uncomfortable, tell me to stop, and I’ll stop, okay?”

Elio nodded, but had no idea what Oliver was going to do. Oliver grabbed Elio’s legs, spread them wider, and once he settled between his legs, started flicking at his hole. “Ooooooh,” Elio said, taking in the new sensations. When Oliver stopped to make sure Elio was okay, Elio said, “No, I liked that. Keep doing that.” He closed his eyes, and found himself enjoying as Oliver expertly explored every crevice with his tongue. When Elio finally climaxed, it was more powerful than any orgasm he’d experienced before - his whole body shivered and tingled. Oliver then lapped at Elio’s stomach and abdomen, cleaning him off.

“Was that an effective hangover cure?” Oliver asked.

Elio took a few deep breaths, still recovering. “Oh my God. That definitely made me forget I was hungover…”

* * *

Later in the morning, after they each showered and Oliver ventured out to grab breakfast for the two of them, they sat on the living room couch, each with their body pressed against an arm, their legs tangled together as they studied and did homework. Elio was working on an assignment for his Italian class when he realized he never asked Oliver about Italy.

“Hey, babe,” he said, putting his highlighter into his book and closing it on his lap.

“Yeah, Poodle?” Oliver responded, still scribbling onto a notecard.

“My Dad mentioned this to me yesterday, I got so swept up in you that I completely forgot to tell you. He said, if you were interested, you could come to Italy with us this summer, and work as his research assistant. He thought it would give you something academic and not politically-oriented for your grad school applications, and he’d list you as a co-author.”

Oliver put his cards down on the coffee table and sat up straight. “That sounds amazing, but I have my internship in the city…”

“I told him that. Do you think you’d be able to do both?”

“Not sure. I’m supposed to have an eight week internship. When do you leave for Italy?”

“First week of July. We never really talked about what we’re going to do about the summer…” Elio said, sitting up and putting his head on Oliver’s shoulder.

Oliver wrapped his arm around Elio. “I mean, we can FaceTime every day. Going to Italy with you sounds amazing though. Do you want me to go?”

Elio kissed Oliver’s arm and nestled himself closer. “Of course I do. I want to be with you always. And then you can see the villa! It’s my favorite place in the world, besides being in your arms.”

“I can’t give up the internship, but maybe I can come for a week at the end of summer? I’ll need to figure it out, but I definitely want to. Do you think I could talk to your father, find out more about what he had in mind work-wise?”

“Want me to call him now?”

Oliver shrugged. “Now or later, whatever’s easier.” Elio called Professor Perlman, and Oliver spent nearly 45 minutes on the phone with him, learning about Sammy’s research and what Oliver would be doing.

After the phone call, Oliver scooped Elio into the tightest bear hug imaginable. “You, and your whole family, are wonderful, did you know that?”

“My parents **are** pretty great. I take it you had a good conversation with my father?”

* * *

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

After his class at NYU, Elio came home and had dinner with his family. He mentioned that Oliver’s parents wanted to take them out for dinner on Sunday night, including Mafalda and Manfredi.

“Oh, that sounds lovely! I’d love to meet them!” Annella said.

“I could press him on his stance on funding the arts,” Sammy joked.

“Papa, please don’t. I want this to go well. I know you’re probably on the same political side as him, but please don’t embarrass me or make things weird.”

Mafalda took a bite of her salmon and looked contemplative. “Why don’t you invite his parents here instead? I can cook for everyone. We can get to know them in private.”

“You sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you…” Elio said, feeling bad that his aunt always bent over backwards to cook for him and do nice things for him.

“Of course, tesoro. Though if they’d prefer to go to a restaurant, I definitely won’t say no.”

Oliver’s parents happily agreed to dinner at the Perlman brownstone. And thus, Mafalda and the rest of the household spent the weekend preparing to host what would be the first of many dinners with the Morgenstern family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one week? Who am I? What have I done with noodle_kugel?
> 
> In all seriousness, thank you all for the kind words on the last chapter and for your support as always. We'll soon be going to Italy with the boys!


	37. Meet the Parents II

_**Thursday, May 9, 2019 - Sunday, May 12, 2019** _

They’d been together for several months now, but aside from a few FaceTime calls, Elio had yet to meet Oliver’s family. This weekend, Oliver’s parents were going to have dinner at the Perlman brownstone. The Perlmans often hosted guests of varying levels of fame in the academic world, but never a politician, especially of Senator Morgenstern’s stature.

“What if they don’t like me?” Elio asked while FaceTiming Oliver on Thursday night.

Oliver brushed his hair out of his face and held his phone at an angle that let Elio see most of his shirtless torso. “They are going to love you.”

“But what if they don’t? What if they think I’m too young for you, or too immature?”

“You’re only three years younger than me. You need to calm down, Poodle.”

Elio placed his iPad on his desk and began pacing around his bedroom. “Should I wear the suit I wear to my piano concerts?”

Oliver shook his head and began to laugh. “We’re just having dinner in your parents’ dining room. You can wear a t-shirt and jeans, you really don’t have to try that hard.”

“Do you know how hard I tried when I wanted you to notice me and like me?” Elio pointed out. “I can’t not _try_  to get on their good side.”

“I noticed you immediately. You didn’t need to try at all. They know how much I like you, and how special you are to me. They are going to love you. If you really want to impress them, just play piano for them.” Elio could feel his heart racing and his chest tightening. He was on the verge of another panic attack. “Elio, are you okay?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sitting down at the desk chair. “I will be. I’m fine.”

“Breathe with me, take a deep breath. In… Out.. Focus on my face on the screen,” Oliver said, trying to help him with the tips Elio had shared from his doctor. “Try counting in French, like you do with your mom.”

Elio focused on Oliver’s light blue eyes, trying to remind himself that this was going to pass, and that everything was fine. He loved everything about Oliver, but his eyes were serene and calming. “Un… deux.. trois…” Oliver guided him through a few more breathing exercises and soon, the room had stopped spinning and his heart was back to a resting rate.

“Are you feeling better?” Oliver asked, looking worried. Elio hated that Oliver needed to worry about him like this, that sometimes it felt like Oliver had accidentally fallen into a caretaker role.

He nodded sheepishly, and rested his hands on his balled fists at the desk. “I’m okay. Thank you… I think I’m just worried that if they don’t like me, you’re going to leave me. You love your parents, and value their opinions so much, and you make so many sacrifices for them. What if I’m one of them?”

“Babe, listen to me. Even if my parents don’t like you, which is crazy because you are amazing and wonderful, I am not going to leave you. Do you understand?”

“I’m still worried you’re going to wake up one morning and realize that I’m not good enough for you.”

Oliver sat up against the headboard and angled his phone so that Elio could now only see his face. “I wish you could see yourself the way I saw you. Then you’d understand that I’m the one who’s out of his league.”

Elio nervously began tucking his curls behind his ears. “I love you, Oliver.”

“After dinner goes amazingly well, which it will, I cannot wait to wrap my arms around you, and kiss every single freckle on your nose and cheeks.”

He smiled softly, watching Oliver watch him felt warm and comforting. Elio silently thanked modern technology for giving him the ability to see Oliver and speak to him, even when they were in separate boroughs. “I think that might take a while, then.”

“We’ll have all the time in the world.”

* * *

Mafalda spent most of the week leading up to dinner with the Morgensterns scouring Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan for all of the finest and freshest ingredients, as she planned on cooking no less than a feast. After confirming that Oliver’s parents did not keep Kosher, she enlisted Elio’s and Annella’s help on Saturday to make her Sunday gravy. Elio was tasked with pounding the beef into flatter, smaller pieces, and eventually assembling the meatballs, while Annella was put in charge of peeling, chopping, and caramelizing onions.

The next morning, they were back at it, making fresh pasta, marinating the tuna steaks, and kneading the dough to make fresh garlic bread.

“Zia Mafalda, are you worried that Oliver’s family wouldn’t know that we’re from Italy?” Elio jokingly asked as he cranked the wheel of their ancient pasta maker and watched as his mother separated and washed basil leaves for the Caprese salad.

Mafalda took off her oven mitt and gently swatted Elio on the head with it. “I just wanted to make a nice dinner for your boyfriend’s family. You’re not the only one trying hard to impress them. By next November, I might be able to say I’ve cooked for the President!”

Elio stopped turning the crank to flatten the noodles and hugged his great aunt. “Thank you for doing all of this.” For good measure, he sauntered over to his mother and gave her a quick hug, too.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

Chiara put Meatball into the basket of her bicycle, and rode over to Elio’s house. She let the dog run around the apartment, instructed Elio to wet his hair, and began to work her magic. Like last time, she brought hair products from home, and managed to make Elio’s hair moderately presentable.

After, Elio sat on the couch with Meatball curled up on his lap, the dog happily panting as Elio scratched his belly. “Is this what you’re planning on wearing tonight?” Chiara asked, scrunching up her face as she examined his white button down shirt that was slightly too large on him, and straight-legged khakis.

“Is this too much? I asked Oliver if I should wear a suit and he laughed at me.”

She went down to Elio’s bedroom, and came back with a pair of grey jeans and several options for shirts. “You look like a religion teacher. Put on these pants and then we’ll figure out which shirt looks best. Where’d you get these, anyway? I like them.”

He grinned softly, thinking about how he bought them because Oliver had said they would make his ass look amazing. “Oliver picked them out, we were shopping earlier in the week, he needed some clothes for his internship.”

Elio went into his bedroom, and came into the living room shirtless, waiting for Chiara to hand him the first shirt. Her eyes immediately went to his hip, where he was sporting a slowly fading purple bruise roughly the size of Oliver’s mouth. “At least this one’s not on your neck,” she smirked, running her thumb over the bruise.

“We tend to get a bit carried away…” Elio blushed, his cheeks turning rosy and warm to the touch. “I love that he can’t keep his hands off of me,” he said, thinking about the way Oliver was kissing his stomach and hipbone the night before that led to this hickey.

Chiara handed Elio a dark blue plaid button-down, and Elio began putting it on. “I take it Oliver’s treating you well?” she asked, straightening the collar of Elio’s shirt.

He fidgeted with the buttons, adjusting the shirt as he looked in the mirror. “In every sense. I feel so much more… worldly, I guess… because of him.”

“Is that a sex thing I don’t know about?” she asked, taking a picture of Elio in this shirt, and deciding on a second option, a solid green t-shirt.

“No, but I’m learning so much about myself, and about sex from him, too.” He threw Chiara the first shirt and took the second one, sliding it over his head. “He did this thing… with his tongue… in unspeakable places.” Elio softly squeezed Chiara’s arm and smiled. “Kiki, he’s amazing.”

Chiara shook her head at the shirt and forced him to take it off, handing him a third shirt, a black polo. “I’ve never seen you this happy, El. I think you’re good together.”

“What do you think, the first shirt?” he asked, looking at the shirt in the mirror. Chiara nodded.

“Definitely the first.”

He put the first shirt back on, and went to put the other shirts back in his closet. He then rejoined Chiara and Meatball on the couch, and they each held one end of Meatball’s rope toy as the dog happily chewed on the middle. “How are things with Drew?” Elio asked, using his free hand to scratch Meatball’s ears.

“They’re good. He’s definitely turning out to be more than a fun distraction. I don’t think we’re going to get married or anything, he’s looking for a baseball scholarship and he assumes that will happen with some state school in the midwest. And I want to go to NYU for acting, or maybe USC or UCLA.”

“Can’t you stay together in college, though?”

She shrugged and didn’t look terribly sad. “I mean, we could, but we both know it’s not going to happen. But we have a year to worry about that.” What if he and Oliver broke up when he went to college? Elio was willing to be with Oliver, no matter the distance, but what if Oliver wouldn’t want to be with him if he got into Harvard and Elio Juilliard? Chiara realized Elio’s sudden change in demeanor and rubbed his arm. “El, that doesn’t mean that you and Oliver won’t stay together. Drew and I aren’t as serious as you two are. No matter where either of you wind up in a year, you’ll find a way to make it work.”

* * *

Elio sat in the living room with his parents and great uncle, waiting for the Morgensterns to arrive. Oliver texted that he was in a car with his parents, and they would be there in fifteen. That was twenty minutes ago.

Before Elio could check his phone for the two hundredth time, the doorbell finally rang. He nervously got up and ran downstairs, but Mafalda insisted on getting the door.

“Mafalda!” Oliver shouted, pulling her into a warm hug. “These are my parents.”

“Come in! Make yourselves at home! So nice to meet you, Mrs. Morgenstern, Senator Morgenstern,” she added, with a slight giggle. Oliver’s mother was beautiful, with her perfectly coiffed dyed honey blonde hair. Oliver more closely resembled his father, especially when he stood next to him. Though he was not as tall as Oliver, he was similarly shaped, with a slightly receding hairline, and hair that was closer to brown than blond. If this is what Oliver would look like thirty years from now, Elio would have no complaints. The Senator was carrying two bouquets of flowers, one for Annella and one for Mafalda, as it was also Mother’s Day.

“Mom, Dad, this is Elio,” Oliver said, wrapping his arms around Elio’s waist and giving him a soft, lingering kiss. Some of his nerves immediately faded, as Elio wasn’t sure how much they were allowed to touch each other, or how Oliver would act with him around his parents.

Elio extended his hand to shake Oliver’s parents’ hands. Oliver’s mother instead gave him a hug. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Elio! You’re even more handsome in person than you are in the pictures that Oliver has shared!”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Morgenstern.”

She flicked her hand away at the name. “Sweetheart, you can call me Rebecca, it’s okay.”

“Senator,” Elio said with a smile, offering to shake his boyfriend’s father’s hand. Oliver’s father, too, gave Elio a hug.

“Please, call me Mike. Michael, if Mike is too informal for you. Oliver hasn’t shut up about you for months now. You’re taller than I was imagining,” he remarked with a smile.

Elio blushed at the idea of Oliver having told his parents all about him. “I mean, anyone looks short compared to Oliver,” he said.

As their parents introduced themselves, Elio whispered to Oliver, “Who’s that?”, pointing at the man standing on the doorstep, but not entering the house.

Oliver rolled his eyes. “He’s their new bodyguard. Secret Service doesn’t kick in until next year, but they decided on hiring a bodyguard without telling me about it until today. He’s just going to patrol outside, he’s not coming in.”

Mafalda escorted everyone upstairs into the dining room, where she and Elio had set the table with the fancy china, and put out flowers the Senator had given them. “You have a beautiful home,” Oliver’s mother said.

Elio sat between his mother and Oliver, and everyone else filled into the various empty seats. Mafalda poured wine for everyone before going into the kitchen to start bringing out the salads.

“What brings you through New York this weekend?” Sammy asked.

The Senator took a sip of his wine. “We were in Connecticut for a fundraiser and some campaign events, and figured we’d take you folks out for dinner. We wanted to meet Elio, and if Oliver is spending his summer with you, taking you out for dinner was the least we could do.”

“But then we couldn’t turn down the generosity of the home-cooked meal from someone Oliver described as ‘the best cook on the planet’,” Rebecca interrupted.

Mafalda covered her face in an attempt to hide her blushing. Elio squeezed Oliver’s hand and grinned. Maybe this meeting of the families wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “Elio and Annella actually helped me prepare tonight’s meal.”

“I can take the credit if it tastes good, but my aunt is the one who taught me how to cook anyway,” Annella laughed.

Over salad and some wine, they chatted about Michael’s presidential campaign, about the courses that Sammy was teaching and his research at NYU, how they wound up back in Brooklyn after a detour in Annella’s home in Italy, and more.

“How is the end of your school year going? Have you decided where you’re applying to college?” the Senator asked. “I’ve heard some wonderful things about Harvard,” he added with a wink.

Elio nervously fiddled with his fork. “Good, I’m glad you knew I was still in high school. I thought you might not know or find that uncomfortable. I’m eighteen, though, I promise.”

Rebecca began laughing. At least they were less upset about Elio’s school situation than Oliver had originally been. “As Oliver has repeatedly told us. You plan on studying music in college?”

He nodded and took a big gulp of his wine. “I really want to go to Juilliard for piano performance, but it’s really selective. I want to be a concert pianist.”

“Elio, you should play something for us after dinner!” Annella beamed. “He is quite talented, and I promise I’d be saying that even if he wasn’t my only child.” He already anticipated that he’d be asked to play, and had been practicing all week.

While they ate their meatballs and pasta covered in Mafalda’s famous Sunday Gravy, the Senator began speaking. “I’m sorry to interrupt the fun to bring business to the table, but - ”

“DAD!” Oliver shouted. “Come on. Can’t we just have a nice dinner without you trying to ask for campaign contributions?”

“Sweetheart, that’s not what he’s doing. Can you listen for a moment, please?” his mother said matter-of-factly.

Elio could sense Oliver tensing up, so he placed his hand on his back and gently started rubbing. “As I’ve been polling better than anticipated, my team thinks that we need to have some safeguards built into our campaign sooner rather than later. I don’t like it, but I need to play the politics game if we want to win. Anyway, I’ve been tasked with asking those close to us and our family to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements. We’ve brought one for each of you. It’s pretty standard fare, but I’d understand if you’d would want your own attorney to look it over first.”

“Is this why you wanted to meet Elio’s parents? I thought you actually cared about me, that this wasn’t about you for once,” Oliver grimaced.

The Senator placed his wine glass on the table and walked over to Oliver, placing his hand on his shoulder. “That’s not what this is about, son. If you’re going to be spending a lot of time with Elio and his family, we need to know that everyone is on the same page.”

Oliver swatted his father’s hand away. “Don’t touch me.” He stood up and started storming out of the room. “Got it. More of the same where I’m the only one who has to sacrifice for the greater good. I thought you were actually supporting me for once. I’ve found someone who makes me happy, and you weren’t angry when I told you about my plans for the summer. This explains it.” Oliver was breathing heavily, and a vein was pulsing in his temple. Elio had never seen Oliver this angry.

His mother began following him. “Oliver, calm down. You’re overreacting. We’re going to be asking all of your close friends and your sister’s friends to sign these, as well. It’s just par for the course. And in fact planned this dinner so that we could meet Elio and his parents. We wanted to meet them before you spent an entire summer with them in Europe.”

“What, are you going to run a background check on Elio and his family next, like you did for Nate when he and Hannah started getting serious?” Oliver grunted. Sammy raised his hand to start speaking, and Annella knocked it down. “You already did, didn’t you.”

All of the older adults in the room began nodding. “One evening, a few weeks after you started dating, I believe this was the week you were with your grandmother, someone came to the house to talk to us and our neighbors while Elio was at work,” Sammy confirmed. Elio looked over at Oliver and shrugged - he’d never been told about this.

“Why didn’t you tell me, maman?” Elio asked his mother in French.

“Mon cheri, we thought it might upset you. Everything was changing, and was so new for you, and we didn’t want to give you any added stressors,” she responded in English. “We didn’t want this to affect your relationship with Oliver. We didn’t mind about the background check, we’re not offended.”

When Elio looked over at Oliver again, he had left the room. “I’m going to go find him,” Elio announced. He wound up not needing to look that hard - Oliver had just walked into the living room and was sitting on the couch. “Can I join you?”

Oliver nodded and made room for Elio, who sidled next to him. “I don’t ask for a lot from my family. Why do they always have to pull a stunt like this? Why can’t they be happy for me, and do something for me, this one time?”

Elio laced his fingers with Oliver’s and held his hand, softly pressing his forehead against Oliver’s. “Have you heard them speaking? They are SO proud of you, Oliver. Your parents love you.”

“I know they love me, but not everything needs to be about my dad and politics.”

He rested his free hand on Oliver’s cheek and rubbed his thumb against his chin. “I know, but is this such a big deal? It’s just a document saying we won’t leak any information about your family to the press. I wouldn’t have done it anyway. I’ll sign whatever they want me to sign, if it means I get to be with you. I know my family will, too.”

“But he just sprung it on all of you, after everyone’s been drinking no less. It’s coercion, and it’s stupid. They made Logan and his family sign an NDA because I thought he might be vindictive and do something malicious, but I trust you and your parents. You wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, or my dad.”

“Then we’ll all wait until the morning when everyone is sober and coherent, and we’ll sign then. No coercion necessary. Babe, you understand why your parents are doing this, right?”

Oliver nodded sullenly. “I guess. It just feels like they don’t trust you or my friends.”

“They’re doing this so we can be together, and so things stay private. They want you to be happy. And it’s not just my family, remember? It’s pretty much everyone you, and your sister, are friends with. It’s just so anything scandalous that anyone may have done won’t leak and hurt your dad’s chances at becoming President - it’s not about trusting or not trusting anyone. It’s strict, but I get it.” Elio looked into Oliver’s eyes and smiled. Slowly, Oliver returned the smile and kissed Elio softly. “I think you just needed a minute to cool down.”

“Thank you, Poodle,” Oliver sighed, squeezing Elio’s hand, readying himself to return to the dining room. “I should go apologize to my parents for yelling at them, and to yours for starting a scene.”

“No need,” Oliver’s father said, standing in the doorway between the dining room and the living room. “We should have told you about this beforehand.”

Rebecca and Michael had both entered the living room, and walked toward Oliver. “Elio is right,” his mother said. “We do trust you, and of course we want you to be happy. This is just a piece of paper. Even if Elio doesn’t want to sign anything, we’re not going to try to stop you from being together.”

“Let’s get back to dinner, those meatballs are not going to eat themselves,” the Senator suggested.

“There are still about three more courses to go,” Elio bragged. “Zia Mafalda spent the past week cooking to prepare for tonight.”

Once they returned to the dining room and Oliver had calmed down, the rest of the dinner went swimmingly. The Morgensterns asked plenty of questions of Elio and his family, they all had plenty of common interests, and they talked about politics and the campaign.

“I have a lot of complaints about the current administration,” Mafalda said, as she finally sat down to eat. “But the most personal issue for me is immigration. When we moved here with Elio and his parents eight years ago when Sammy’s father was ill, it was a different time. It was easy for Manfredi and me to get green cards. I watch on the news now as children are separated from their parents at the border. So many people risked their lives coming here, and they get turned away and put in concentration camps. But Manfredi and I weren’t even running from anything dangerous, we just wanted to be with our family, and it should be easier for us to move here and become citizens because of the color of our skin and the country where we were born? It’s despicable and racist. And, what’s the word… where you are afraid of other people because they aren’t like you...”

“Xenophobic?” Sammy asked, and Mafalda nodded.

“That’s not the America I learned about for my citizenship test.”

The Senator nodded. “You are certainly right. I want to work on paving an easier path to citizenship, including for current undocumented immigrants. The conditions in the immigration detention camps are detestable, and I would obviously not allow separation of children from families.”

“Wow, Zia, I didn’t know you were following politics like that,” Elio said, astonished.

She shrugged and gave Elio a sly smirk. “How do you think we learned such good English? We listen to NPR all the time.”

The topic of conversation bounced around all evening, and by dessert, or perhaps because of the abundance of alcohol that was consumed, it was as if their families had known each other for years.

Oliver’s parents were thankful to Sammy for offering Oliver a place to stay and the opportunity to do research. They weren’t thrilled that Oliver planned on pursuing a PhD, but were glad that he acquiesced and was going to apply for joint JD/PhD programs.

“I think you’ll regret not having the legal background if you decide to run for office one day, but I understand you want to pursue your passion. I think this is a solid middle ground,” Oliver’s mother said. “Also, then I’ll be able to say you’re both a doctor AND a lawyer. It’s every Jewish mother’s dream.”

“For what it’s worth, I think his philosophy background will make the law school parts of his application stronger. He’ll be able to approach the law from a philosophical perspective, which many political science or economics majors won’t have. He’ll find plenty to learn from and study in the common ground between the two fields,” Sammy pointed out.

The two families eventually made their way into the living room. Sammy served everyone but Elio an additional cocktail. “Sorry, Elly Belly, we’ve already let you have some wine, I think that’s enough for tonight,” he said, as he skipped over Elio while distributing old-fashioned glasses.

“Papa! Don’t call me that in front of everyone, it’s embarrassing,” Elio gritted through his teeth.

Annella reached over and mussed Elio’s hair, much to his chagrin. “Why don’t you play something for us now, darling?” He sat down at the piano, stretched his arms overhead and slowly cracked the knuckles of each finger.

For ten minutes, the room was silent in rapt attention as Elio played his heart out. When he finished, he noticed Oliver’s mother wiping the corner of her eye with a tissue. “Bravo!” the Senator shouted.

Elio sat back down between his mother and Oliver. In a hushed tone, Oliver whispered, “That was amazing, Babe.”

The night wound down, and the Morgensterns apologized for needing to head back to their hotel. “Back on the campaign trail tomorrow,” the Senator griped.

“It was so lovely to meet you both. Oliver is wonderful, and we all adore him,” Annella said, kissing Rebecca and Michael on the cheek.

“I’ll have my attorney look at the paperwork tomorrow, and we’ll send it over this week,” Sammy added.

The Senator shook Sammy’s hand. “I really am sorry, if you feel it’s an imposition or anything.”

“Nonsense,” Sammy said.

“If you have any plans to visit Europe this summer, you should swing by the villa for a few days. Crema is a beautiful town, and we’d love to have you,” Annella suggested. “We’ve got more than enough room.”

“You should bring Hannah!” Oliver shouted. “We can have one last family vacation together before things might change.”

The Senator took out his phone and began scrolling. “Actually, that sounds like a great idea. We have to see if we have any breaks in the schedule, but can we speak later about that?”

“The door is always open,” Sammy grinned.

“Mafalda, that is quite possibly the best home-cooked meal I have ever eaten. Thank you so much,” the Senator said, shaking Mafalda’s hand. “I think maybe we should talk some more another day about immigration policy.”

“It was so nice to meet you, Elio,” Oliver’s mother said, hugging Elio once more. “I can see why Oliver likes you so much.”

“Take good care of each other,” the Senator said. “Oliver, do you want our driver to take you up to Columbia after they drop us off at the hotel in midtown?”

Oliver shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m going to spend the night here. I’ll head back uptown when Elio goes to school tomorrow morning.” He hugged both of his parents, and watched them exit the brownstone, followed closely behind by their bodyguard.

The boys helped Mafalda and Annella clean up the kitchen, and then went down to Elio’s garden apartment. Once they were inside with the door locked, Oliver shoved Elio against a wall and kissed him needily.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” Oliver growled into Elio’s mouth. They wasted no time getting to the bedroom and out of their clothing.

During their post-coital cuddle, they recounted the evening’s events, and decided they were happy with how things went, discounting Oliver’s outburst. “My parents already texted me about how much they loved you and your family, and want to be able to make a family trip to Italy happen while I’m there with you.”

“So you’re not mad at them anymore?” Elio asked, resting his head on Oliver’s bare chest. Oliver shook his head no, and started kissing Elio's nose, fulfilling his promise of kissing every freckle.

“Thank you for helping me earlier. That was really sweet of you.”

Elio carded his fingers through Oliver’s hair, moving his hair out of his eyes. “I would do anything for you. I hope you know that.”

“Have I told you that you’re the best and how much I love you?”

He grinned goofily, nuzzling closer to Oliver. “You have, but I like hearing you say it. Tell me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten about this story :) Hope this long chapter was worth the wait! I love these boys so much, almost as much as they love each other. Stay tuned for their summer together, Elio's first Pride, and more. As always, thank you all for the support and for the kudos/comments/everyone who reaches out. Thank you for reading and encouraging me.
> 
> Also, in the group thread, Chiara is in green, Marzia in blue, Elio in grey. I noticed a typo in the last thing Elio says: he meant to say "Think you can..." instead of "Thank you can". Just pretend it's a real typo he made instead of one that I made :)


	38. Best Promposal Ever

_**Saturday, June 1, 2019 - Tuesday, June 18, 2019** _

Elio’s junior year was quickly coming to an end, and he couldn’t wait to spend his summer in Italy with Oliver. One evening, as they were snuggled up on the couch, Elio took out his phone and started showing Oliver the pictures he had taken the previous summer in Crema. “Ignore the terrible selfie, but this is my room. It’ll be our room this summer,” he said with glee. He was going to spend nearly the entire summer with Oliver, sleeping next to each other each night. “This is the villa, it was my mother’s parents’ house, but after they died when she was a kid, she inherited the place. I’m named after my nonno, he was also Elio.”

Oliver gently ran his fingers down Elio’s neck as they swiped through the photos, sending shivers down Elio’s spine. He loved when Oliver touched him like this, softly and sweetly, while they worked or watched television or cuddled together. Moments like these made Elio certain that Oliver loved him, and just wanted to _be_  with him, that their relationship was deeper than just sex. Not that Elio minded the sex. He loved having sex. He couldn’t get enough sex. But he also just enjoyed being around Oliver. They each found happiness in each other’s company.

“Where were your aunt and uncle before that?” Oliver asked.

“Zia Mafalda and Zio Manfredi lived in a town nearby, but didn’t have any kids, so they moved in with her and became her guardians. They’re basically my grandparents.”

Elio put his phone in his pocket once they were done scrolling through the pictures, and placed his head on Oliver’s shoulder. “It’s sweet how close you are with your family. Closer than my family is.”

He shrugged and laced his fingers with Oliver’s. “Maybe it’s because I’m an only child? Or because we’re European?”

“Whatever it is, you’re lucky.” Oliver soon took out his GRE workbook and began scribbling at some of the math questions. He was planning on taking the GREs before he left for Italy. “I thought I was done with standardized tests until the Bar Exam if I even become a lawyer, and yet I have to take another one,” he sighed.

“If you need help with the math section, you should talk to Marzia. She got an 800 on the math section of her SATs last month. Though you did say your friend Rob is an SAT tutor…” Elio remembered.

Oliver counted on his fingers and circled an answer. “I think I’ll be okay. I did pretty well on a practice test with no preparation. And I got a 178 on my LSATs, so that has to count for something for these joint programs, right? The GRE feels like a formality at best. But I can’t totally fuck it up.”

Suddenly, he remembered something he had said to Oliver several weeks earlier, before Oliver had taken his LSAT. Elio placed his laptop onto the coffee table and nuzzled against his boyfriend. “Do you remember what I promised you once you got your score?” he whispered, suggestively placing his hand on Oliver’s thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Oliver fidgeted in his seat, but didn’t push Elio’s hand away. “Mmm, I do. But we both need to work right now. I’ll take you up on that later.” Elio reached over and closed his laptop, then started kissing Oliver’s cheek and jawline. Oliver smirked, but kept scribbling in his workbook. Feeling adventurous, Elio climbed onto Oliver’s lap, pressing his body tightly against Oliver’s torso, and began kissing his neck. “Elio, I need to work,” he mumbled through a laugh.

“Keep working, then. And I’ll keep working at this,” he playfully added. Oliver reached around Elio to pick up his book so he could keep reading, and held his book to the side. “I just… have to kiss… every last inch of you…” he said between kisses. Oliver attempted to read, turning the pages as Elio refused to let up.

Eventually, Oliver threw his book to the floor and tilted his head up to give Elio a better angle. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, then. Just be careful not to leave a mark this time.” He closed his eyes as Elio slowly suckled on his earlobe, and eventually, his Adam’s apple. The desire that coursed between them was palpable. Several months in, it still pleased Elio immensely when he could feel how hard Oliver was beneath his jeans, knowing that he was the reason Oliver was turned on. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

Oliver threaded his hand underneath Elio’s t-shirt and softly ran his hands up Elio’s back. “And what would those be?”

Elio bit his lip and looked up toward the ceiling. “I’ve got a confession to make. I’ve possibly, maybe… started watching some porn, after you last asked me about it.”

Oliver started laughing heartily with a wide smile, in a way that didn’t make Elio feel bad about what he had said. “That’s not a confession, Elio. Everyone watches porn. I assumed you were just too embarrassed to tell me about it.” He tilted his head to the side and smirked. “What, you want to record us having sex? I would be game for that, if we made sure the video was never, ever uploaded to the cloud…”

Elio thought he might die if he watched a video of himself having sex. It was bad enough when he could sometimes see himself in a mirror. “No, not that. I’ve just… I watched more for educational purposes. To learn new positions and things we could try. I just want to make you feel good and wanted to learn some new things.”

“Fuck, that’s really hot…” Oliver said, looking up at Elio. “What did you learn?”

Suddenly nervous, he buried his head against Oliver’s chest. “I shouldn’t have told you about that…”

“Was there anything new you wanted to try?”

He nodded coyly, and sat up straighter, still on Oliver’s lap. “There was one video, where one guy was pressed against the backboard of the bed while on his back, and the other one kind of… fucked his mouth, I guess? It sounds so vulgar when I say it out loud.”

Oliver raised his eyebrow, continuing to smile. “You want to sit on my face?”

“I meant for you to do that while I suck you off, but if you’re offering… yes, I think I want to do that. Is that weird?”

“Definitely not. I was expecting you to say something much more raunchy than that. What are we waiting for?” Without missing a beat, Oliver picked Elio up and carried him to the bedroom, placing him down on the bed. 

They began tearing off each others’ clothing as they kissed, but Oliver stopped once he unbuttoned Elio’s jeans. “Boxer briefs? Those are new.”

“Do you like them?” Elio asked in a coquettish manner. “I… In some of the videos I watched, and some Instagram models I’ve found, most guys were wearing them, and I thought they looked sexier than boxers.”

He pulled Elio’s pants off and admired Elio in just his dark blue boxer briefs. “You look amazing. Better than any Instagram model I’ve seen.” Oliver scooted back toward the headboard and beckoned for Elio. “As sexy as they look on, take those off and get over here.”

As quickly as Oliver told him to remove the boxer briefs, Elio shed them, and quickly moved forward to sit on Oliver’s stomach. Oliver stroked Elio several times, before encouraging him to kneel on either side of his shoulders. “My God, this is way better than studying,” Oliver growled.

Elio awkwardly positioned himself above Oliver until he found the best angle. Oliver playfully licked him, and took his length in his mouth, and encouraged Elio to take the lead. Elio grabbed onto his headboard and eventually settled into a rhythm that felt comfortable. “You okay?” he asked, and Oliver gripped onto his ass, squeezing his affirmative consent. Elio looked down and watched as Oliver appeared to be devouring him, enthusiastically guiding Elio along. Once he climaxed, he climbed off of Oliver and snuggled next to him.

“Did you enjoy that?” Oliver asked as Elio contentedly buried his head on his shoulder. Elio nodded vigorously and grinned. “You know that you can tell me if you have any fantasies or want to try anything new. I’ll do anything with you.”

“I know,” Elio said, sighing happily. He took a good look at Oliver, from head to toe, and wondered how he ever got so lucky that someone so handsome, so tall, so manly, would ever fall in love with him. “Is there anything you’ve been fantasizing about?”

Oliver scratched his head, deep in thought. “There is one thing…”

“What is it?” Elio asked, curious about Oliver’s dirtiest thoughts.

“Okay, so last year, Logan and I got together right before I went to visit Deb in Paris for spring break. When I’d planned my trip, I’d kind of imagined meeting and being seduced by a sexy Parisian who only spoke French and no English. I had this fantasy that we’d understand each other exclusively through our bodies, and he’d speak French to me while we fucked. I jerked off to thoughts of something like that sometimes, until I met you. Now I just think about you.”

Elio mulled it over for a moment, and then smiled. He knew exactly how to surprise Oliver in the future so he could live out that fantasy. “Je parle français!”

* * *

“It’s your girl Kiki! I’m coming at you live from the band room! I have some auditions coming up the first week of my summer theater program, so I’m going to practice one of my songs. Let me know what you think! Today, I’m going to sing _Mama Who Bore Me_ from _Spring Awakening_ , and my friend Elio is going to accompany me on guitar.”

Elio sat on a chair and strapped on an acoustic guitar, while Chiara stood in the center of the room. “Martz, make sure you have a steady hand while you record. Last time Drew recorded for me, it was mostly a recording of his finger.”

“How often have you had me do this, Chiara? I’ve got it,” Marzia’s disembodied voice mumbled from behind the camera.

Chiara cleared her throat and counted Elio in to play the opening. “Mama who bore me… Mama who gave me… No way to handle things… who made me so sad…”

Once she was on the second verse, they were interrupted by some shouting. “Ugh!” Chiara screamed in frustration. “Sorry, dear followers. I need to ask my classmates to quiet down. Give me a second.” She went to open the door to scream into the hallway, but before she had a chance to say anything, a few members of the baseball team ran into the room in their uniforms. Marzia looked at Chiara and asked if she should shut off the recording, but before she had a chance, each player unfurled a sign.

 

_**Chiara, you’re a catch!** _

 

_**Maybe I’m swinging for the fences,** _

 

_**And I might strike out...** _

 

_**I decided to step up to the plate** _

 

Drew came into the room with a bigger poster that read, 

 

_**Chiara Alfonso, will you go to junior prom with me?** _

 

Chiara screamed and lept into Drew’s arms. “Of course! I’d say this was a home run!”

Elio locked eyes with Marzia, and they both groaned. Chiara wrapped her arms around Drew and started kissing him, while Marzia kept broadcasting to Chiara’s Instagram. “That wasn’t how I expected this live session to go, but that was the best promposal ever!” Chiara shouted as Marzia got closer to her. “Don’t forget to like my posts and tell your friends to follow! Byeeeee!”

Most of Drew’s teammates high fived him and left the room, while Marzia and Elio sat in the corner snickering.

“I can’t believe you did that while I was streaming!” Chiara exclaimed.

“I thought you’d want it broadcast, so I waited until I knew you were live. I’ve been planning it for weeks.”

Chiara squealed a few more times, and then asked Marzia to take a picture of her with Drew and his last sign so she could post the picture on Instagram. “Marzia Giordano, paparazzo extraordinaire,” Marzia whispered to Elio.

After their impromptu photoshoot, Chiara dragged Drew over and sat down with Elio and Marzia. “Are you guys going to go to junior prom? We could all get a limo together!” Elio didn’t think that Drew could afford a limousine, but he kept his mouth shut.

“First of all, no, junior prom sounds terrible. Kayla Greenberg planned it, and she’s bringing mister Ethan _I just want to be single before I go to college_ Carpenter. Second, why do you need a limo to get to DUMBO? You can walk there from your parents’ house,” Marzia noted.

Elio frowned, thinking about going to a prom without Oliver. “I don’t want to go if I can’t bring Oliver. We can’t go to a public event like this, as dates.” Marzia’s attorney mother had taken a week to parse through every line of the NDA she had to sign for Marzia, who couldn’t sign one for herself as a minor, but at this point, Marzia, Chiara and Drew and their families had all signed their NDAs about Elio’s relationship with Oliver. The Morgenstern campaign was getting very strict.

“Why don’t you two go together, then? It’ll be so much fun!” Chiara suggested.

“Are you going to keep bugging us about it until we say we’re going?” Elio asked.

Chiara nodded and Marzia threw her hands up in the air in defeat, sighing loudly. 

“Marzia, will you go to junior prom with me?” Elio asked in an intentionally sarcastic monotone.

“Fine. I’ll go.” Marzia replied. “Best promposal ever!” she added, with emphasized vocal fry and faux enthusiasm.

“Yay!” Chiara screeched in delight, ignoring her friends’ digs. “Let’s go dress shopping this weekend!”

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

“Stay still, your curls will be uneven if you keep bouncing like that,” Annella said, working on Elio’s hair.

Elio took a deep breath and steadied himself. “Sorry, maman.”

“What time are the girls and their parents getting here again?”

Elio looked at his phone to see if either of them had texted. They hadn’t. “Around 5. We won’t be here for long, just for pictures and some snacks, and then we’re off to Drew’s teammate Aidan’s place in Brooklyn Heights before prom.”

“Look at you, befriending the baseball team! Never thought I’d see the day!” Annella joked as she wrapped a curl around her finger and plumped it with mousse.

“Who said anything about befriending? Have you seen their asses in those uniforms?” He surprised himself with that joke, but Annella didn’t seem surprised or offended.

Annella put down the hairbrush and stood behind Elio, resting her head on his shoulder and squeezing him from behind, laughing heartily. “I love you, mon cherie. You’ve grown into such a loving, smart, confident man. I’m so proud of you.”

He made eye contact with his mother in the mirror and noticed how much he was starting to look like his mother as he got older. No one would have any trouble realizing they were mother and son. “I love you, too, maman.”

The girls and Drew, along with their families, soon arrived at the Perlman brownstone. While Mafalda served everyone drinks and snacks, they took pictures in the backyard. “Martz, you look beautiful,” Elio whispered to Marzia as they posed for their first picture. She was wearing a yellow dress, no doubt chosen by Chiara, with bright red shoes and lips to match.

Marzia blushed and looked down at the floor. “The shoes aren’t too much?”

Elio grinned and shook his head. “No, I like them. Do you think my shoes are too much?” With his fancy designer suit that he had to swear on his life to Chiara that he would not stain or damage, he was wearing his well-weathered Chuck Taylors. Old habits die hard.

“Abuelita, you’ve already taken at least a hundred pictures, can we stop for a minute so I can eat something?” Drew begged his grandmother, who insisted that Drew and Chiara pose once more.

Elio and Marzia posed for the same pictures twice, because her parents refused to stand on the same side of the backyard, so as a concession, they posed for each of her parents. “At least they’re both here?” Elio whispered, unable to remember the last time that her parents were willing to even be in the same borough.

Munching on some cheese and prosciutto, Elio sat down next to Marzia’s grandmother and his great aunt, who were chatting in Italian. “Did you ever patch things up with that boy?” Marzia’s nonna asked. Elio grinned and nodded.

“Everything is perfect with him.” Mafalda, who was apparently as smitten with Oliver as Elio was, began bragging about Oliver, using her hands to exaggerate how tall he is.

Sammy snapped a photo of Elio and Marzia and offered to text it to Oliver. “Papa, are you sure you didn’t accidentally take a selfie or a video?”

They spent some time as their families mingled, eating, drinking, pretending to be candid as Chiara videotaped everyone for a story for her Instagram page. Then, after sharing a cab to Aidan’s apartment, Marzia and Elio watched as the juniors from the baseball team posed with their dates on the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, occasionally taking the pictures for some couples and pairings. Elio usually felt like an outsider amongst his classmates, but he felt especially out of his element surrounded by Drew’s athletic friends. “C’mere, get in the group picture,” Drew beckoned, and a few of the others smiled as they made room for them while someone’s mother took pictures.

“If I’m never in another picture again, I think I’d be okay with that,” Marzia whispered to Elio, and they both giggled. After their second brief cab ride of the night, they finally arrived at their junior prom, housed in a warehouse loft in DUMBO with impressive views of the bridges and of the Manhattan skyline. 

 

 

The prom wound up being much more fun than either Elio or Marzia had anticipated. Elio and Marzia were sitting at a table with Chiara and Drew, and the rest of his baseball friends, and Elio actually felt like they enjoyed his company and didn’t mind that he was there. Usually he felt like he was taking up space that someone more interesting could occupy, but today, he felt wanted and appreciated.

During a slow song, Elio realized that he might never have the opportunity to dance with Oliver at a party like this, not in the way he really wanted to. Marzia, who had been watching Ethan dancing with Kayla, noticed Elio’s sudden change of demeanor, grabbed his hand, and dragged him to the center of the dance floor. “Martz, I’m not in the mood. Can we wait until the song is over?”

“Nope, we’re going to dance.” She clasped onto his hand and started jumping up and down, headbanging to a rhythm three times as fast as the song that was playing. They jumped around for the entire song, giggling and waving their hands in the air, attracting some attention from the slow dancers around them.

Once the DJ played faster songs, they kept dancing, and watched as Chiara danced almost lewdly with Drew. Marzia and Elio decided to continue the spontaneous silliness, and ran over to the couple, dancing on either side of them in an effort to embarrass them.

By the time the prom was over, it felt as if no time had passed. Elio was surprised by how much fun he and Marzia had at the event they’d have otherwise passed on. The foursome soon called for an Uber and made their way back to Elio’s garden apartment for their planned after party of edibles, pizza, and junk food.

When Elio unlocked the door, he was surprised to see balloons lining the entrance. He turned into the living room, and saw his parents, his aunt and uncle, and Oliver sitting on the couch. “Oliver!” Elio shouted, dropping his keys in the foyer and running into his arms. Oliver was wearing a bowtie and a monochromatic black suit emblazoned with a black floral print. “What are you doing here? In a suit?”

“I couldn’t go to prom with you, so with your family’s and friends’ help, I brought the prom to you.”

Elio was speechless. He was thrilled beyond belief, but also a bit choked up. Oliver used his thumb to wipe away the few tears that were pooling in Elio’s eyes. “Don’t cry, Poodle.”

“I’m not crying. I’m happy,” he said, wrapping his arms around Oliver and kissing him, not caring that everyone else he cared about was in the room.

“Your speakers are on the Wi-Fi?” Chiara asked. Marzia grabbed Chiara’s phone and connected it to his speakers, and the Adele cover of _Make You Feel My Love_ began to play.

“May I have this dance?” Oliver asked, and Elio nodded. Elio rested his head against Oliver’s chest, overwhelmed with love and appreciation for his family, for Marzia and Chiara and even Drew, and especially for Oliver.

After everyone, even Elio’s parents and aunt, danced to a few songs, and took pictures of everyone, his family went back upstairs. “I can’t believe you all did this for me,” Elio said, mildly embarrassed.

“We love you, El,” Marzia said, nudging him with her elbow.

The rest of the night went as planned. They ordered late night pizza, everyone except for Oliver got high, and they watched silly movies until Marzia, Chiara and Drew went home. When they were finally alone, Elio pinned Oliver against the wall. “I need you to very carefully help me out of this suit so we don’t have to pay thousands of dollars for it, and then I need to fuck your brains out,” Elio added. “Maybe figure out a way to keep some of that suit on because you look really fucking hot in it.”

“I’ll wear it whenever you want me to,” Oliver said, gingerly unbuttoning Elio’s suit pants and sliding them down. Elio gently placed each piece of the suit on the couch, and ran down to the bedroom, excited for the night and early morning he had not been expecting several hours earlier.

After a passionate and vigorous fuck, Elio sighed happily as Oliver spooned him. “I’m so happy you’re here. I wish you could have gone to prom with me, but I’m so, so, so happy you’re here.”

“I’m always going to be right here with you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a while to write, but I hope you enjoyed it! Just for a little timeline on this story, I think I'm going to be able to post maybe a chapter or two a month through the end of the year, but hopefully they'll be good enough to tide you over! Little hints as to what's to come: next chapter, Elio goes to Pride, and the chapter after that, we leave NYC for a wonderful summer in Italy!
> 
> Thank you all for the continued support. I know some things are trying recently, but I really appreciate all of the friends I've made through this community, and I'm so happy we've all connected. Your comments and notes always mean so much to me <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is an AU that takes place in NYC in the modern day. Elio is in high school, Oliver is in college.
> 
> If you ever want to reach out or chat, feel free to find me on [tumblr](http://noodlekugel.tumblr.com) (I'm noodlekugel on there).


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